


Step Up When the Lights Go Off

by ShunKickShunKers



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Clint and Natasha can't keep their hands off each other, Dancing and Singing, F/M, Tony is a DJ, but not everyone sings, everyone dances, kind of Step Up style, teen pregnancy mentionned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 51,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShunKickShunKers/pseuds/ShunKickShunKers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Natasha Romanoff’s life was, from an external point of view, perfect. Well, that was before Clint Barton dragged her into the world of the Street and Crew battles…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to a music and thought, hey, how would it be if Clintasha were dancers, and this came out. Enjoy :)

1

 

Natasha Romanoff’s live was, from an external point of view, perfect.

She was a young woman of sixteen, soon turning seventeen, with bright green eyes, silky, wavy red hair and a porcelain skin. She lived with both her parents in a calm neighborhood. She had good friends, Bobbi Morse and Steve Rogers, the most popular students in her high-school. James Barnes, a good friend of Steve, was her boyfriend. Rumors had them going steady and people thought they even might get married once out of high-school. She was smart and beautiful and nice. She had taken ballet lessons since she was six and was quite good at it. She was popular with her classmates and the teachers. Every girl loved her or wanted to be like her.

Yes, Natasha Romanoff’s live was, from an external point of view, perfect.

 

* * *

 

 

“Miss Romanoff would you care to answer the question?”

Natasha blinked out of her reverie and glanced up. The Russian teacher, Mr Pietrovitch, was staring at her with rueful and disapproving eyes. The redhead felt her shoulders stiffen as he leaned forwards, a little bit too close for comfort. Pietrovitch wasn’t her favorite teacher by all means –she didn’t like the way he eyed her at times, but he was still a teacher. And she clearly hadn’t been listening for the past five minutes. From the corner of the eye, she saw Bobbi keeping a perfect straight face, looking away. The others were glancing at her with bored curiosity. She opened her mouth to apologize but before a sound could bypass her lips…

“Sir, we all know she’s just gonna score the answer as usual with her Russian background.” A loud, complaining voice erupted from the back of the class. Everyone, including Natasha, turned around.

The student who had just spoken was a sandy-haired boy leaning nonchalantly back against his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. Clint Barton. He had been labeled Master Prankster and Trouble-Maker from every reasonable person of the school after he had managed to turn the whole teaching staff crazy with paper balls and painting pots. Natasha didn’t know him well, never spoke to him, but given the way he resented and resisted any form of authority, she knew he deserved his titles. It was a wonder he hadn’t been kicked out of high-school yet.

“Mr Barton” Pietrovitch snorted, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have anything to say?”

“Sure” the boy replied with a shrug. “She comes from Russia. Everyone in Russia knows about the Swan Lake. Heck, she’s even takin’ ballet lessons, everyone knows that. Bet she’s just as bored as I am with your class.” He added with a playful wink at her.

She stared back in disbelief.

“You shouldn’t assume; I don’t know everything about the Swan Lake.”

Barton snorted.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, like you can be int’rested in that stuff. First, you do ballet –which sucks by the way- and second, you’re Russian.” She raised her eyebrows at his slightly mocking tone. "Ah, third, everyone knows the freakin story of the Swan Lake. Heck, even my old neighbor who never set a foot out of this goddamn town knows about the Swan Lake. And why the hell would ya make us study ballet t’start with? Ain’t there more fascinatin’ stuff in Russia?”

“Are you saying my classes are not worthy your interest?” Pietrovitch said, anger showing on his face. Half of the class was much focused now, Natasha noticed. Barton grinned.

“Your classes are _borin’_ sir. There’s a slight nuance.” A couple of students tried their best to hide their smirk of agreement. She frowned, puzzled at his behavior; Barton was a trouble-maker, but he never showed such blatant disrespect to a teacher.

“Fine. Barton, you just earned two hours detention tonight.” The teacher snapped. The boy looked incredibly pleased with himself as the man turned away and returned to his teaching. Natasha kept her eyes a little longer on him, wondering what the heck had gone through his mind…And then he caught her staring and smiled. Not a smirk, not an outwit grin, just a small, easy smile. Something jolted in her chest in reaction. Natasha blinked in surprise, warily smiled back before focusing on the classes again. What the heck had just happened?

 

* * *

 

 

“That guy was just a jerk!” Bobbi shrieked indignantly as she squeezed her box of grape juice. “I mean, you should have seen him talk up to the teacher and blatantly saying that Nat was just a stupid girl because she was Russian!”

Natasha held back a wince; her head was about to explode under her friend’s incessant chatter and complaining, as if _she_ had been the one who had almost got into detention with Pietrovitch. Next to her, Steve was thoughtfully eating his sandwich, trying very hard to pretend he was listening to the blonde sitting next to him. James was engaged with a conversation with a football buddy from the table across them so paying no attention at all. The redhead envied him; Bobbi had that habit of sometimes chatting for herself, too glad to listen to her own voice and Natasha had a very hard time tuning her out.

“There he is.”

Natasha glanced on the left, following Bobbi’s gaze. Barton was there indeed, throwing his schoolbag on a bench and settling among a bunch of senior students. Two girls and three boys. Natasha knew a couple of them by sight, but not their name.

“He’s sticking with Maria Hill and Bruce Banner, of course.” Bobbi snarled. The redhead stared at her friend, the names ringing a bell but she couldn’t remember why. Of course, she didn’t pinpoint who was who, so Natasha still didn’t know which people she was talking about. “You know, Hill, the girl that got pregnant at fifteen! She’s almost never at school. It’s a wonder they still haven’t kicked her out yet. And Banner, the guy who knocked down more people than Aaron Davis! He should be sent to a mental institute. Jesus, these people shouldn’t be allowed at this school at all! This isn’t the respectable establishment it used to be, don’t you think Natasha?”

The redhead didn’t answer and kept staring at the table. They were laughing at something one of the boys had said. Something that felt like longing started to grow in her chest. Her friends were nice, but they never interacted with so little restraint. It was always all proper and perfect manners, especially with Bobbi. And truth was? Natasha didn’t really consider them friends, just people she hung out with because her parents approved of them. Other students placated that picture of them being inseparable. If given the choice, Natasha would gladly spend her days alone in her corner. But Bobbi’s mother was a friend of her mother, Steve was truly nice and James…well James _was_ her boyfriend. She liked him better than most boys and he was sweet with her. Plus, her parents approved of him too, so allowed her to go out with him late at night, instead of locking her up inside the house…

From the bench, one of the girls noticed Natasha’s staring and said something. They all looked in her direction, Barton in particular, and she turned away. Great, now he and his buddies will be wondering what she was up to, she thought mildly embarrassed. Their opinion didn’t really matter to her, but she still hated when people thought she was spying on them. To stop thinking about it, she tried to redirect her attention on her chatting friend but miserably failed when Bobbi started talking about her next trip to Florida with her parents. A subject she had no qualm mentioning again and again –although this time she tried to lure Steve into some form of conversation. On her part, Natasha let her thoughts drift back to Russian class.

Pietrovitch had a reputation among students for being a hardass (or an _ass_ period) and slightly creepy. Given her personal experience with him, she tended to agree. The moment she had walked in his class, he had been after her, kept staring at her when he thought she wasn’t looking...Natasha sighed. She had always done her best in that class to avoid a potential situation like this; she being stuck with that creep for an hour or more alone…She was lucky Barton had decided to manifest himself and catch the teacher’s whole attent-

It suddenly hit her: the satisfied smirk he bore when Pietrovitch had grounded him, the smile he threw at her afterwards. Could he have intentionally provoked…

“Hey Natasha you’re coming?”

Bobbi was staring at her expectantly. Steve, James and she had picked up their trail and were obviously heading out. The redhead hadn’t realized they had finished their lunch so fast. Good thing she had been done with hers for a while.

“Yeah I’m…” she started then realized in the corner of the eye that Barton’s table was clearing out as well. In the split of second, she made a decision. “You guys go ahead; I’ll join you in a minute.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Can I talk to you?”

Natasha must have startled Barton; the teen, who was aiming his can at the garbage, nearly missed the spot by an inch or two. Behind him, half of his friends stared at her with curiosity. Barton merely turned back to face her, tilted his head on the side, an eyebrow rising in surprise.

“Uh –sure?” He followed her without thinking twice. Natasha led him close to a wall, where she could see anyone approaching or eavesdropping from afar and looked at him straight in the eyes. He had nice eyes, she noted distractingly. A beautiful shade of blue mixed with a little green and golden. She pushed the thought aside and uttered quickly:

“I –I just wanted to say thank you. For distracting Pietrovitch. I’d have been in big trouble if you hadn’t intervened.”

Her sentence was received with a stare of disbelief.

“You think I opened my mouth t’save you from detention?” he asked. She would have thought he was mocking her, if not for the glint of amusement in his eye and the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. Natasha found herself distracted again; Clint Barton wasn’t a particularly handsome fellow like James, but she couldn’t deny he possessed this natural charisma that drawn people to him. She barely knew him, yet she already felt at ease around him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart. Pietrovitch’s known for not so innocent touches with girls. I wouldn’t have left a cute little thing like you ‘lone with him.”

She wondered whether she should feel offended, flattered by his words or worried by that side of Pietrovitch’s reputation. A few seconds later, she realized he was expecting her to speak.

“Well, that was it, thanks” she mumbled and started to turn away. His hand caught her wrist and she almost jumped out of her skin in surprise.

“Hey sweetheart?”

“The name’s Romanoff” she replied although not dryly. Barton chuckled in response and let her wrist go.

“Just to be clear, I didn’t mean anythin’ bad when I said you were from Russia. Only idiots would. Actually I find that pretty cool.”

“Ah.” She didn’t know what to reply to that. She hadn’t taken much offense when he had pinpointed her origins, but it still felt nice to hear that he had no prejudices towards that. It must have annoyed Mr Pietrovitch…afterthought maybe that was why he had said that.

“But ballet still sucks.”

This time, she impulsively hit him lightly on the arm. His grin somehow widened a bit.

“Very funny Barton” Natasha snorted dryly then asked out of the blue. “You’re coming at Bobbi’s party tonight?”

To her surprise, his grin lessened in intensity.

“That’s not exactly my stuff and I don’t think Morse would be glad if I showed up. I got plans anyway.”

Given the way Bobbi had spoken of him and his friends, Natasha tended to agree. Still, she felt a hint of disappointment –hidden straight away by a small smile.

“Okay” she said. “Well thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it sweetheart.”

“It’s Romanoff!”

His laugher followed her as she walked away, triggering an odd feeling in her stomach. She pushed it away and hurried to join her friends.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no betas to check out the spelling/grammar etc, so mistakes are mine. And the forgotten 'g' or abbreviations in Clint's speech are on purpose ^^"   
> Enjoy!

**2**

 

It was common knowledge that Bobbi Morse knew how to throw a party. That they bore the hell out of Natasha was not. The first times she had been blinded by fascination –she had never gone out to attend a party, her parents wouldn’t let her. The more she went thought, the more the magic faded. For the past hour, she had been sitting in a couch, playing doll for James while he made pointless talk with his so-called friends and drank beer after beer. Sometimes she managed to have fun when she found a couple of people who had more than two neurons in their brains –like Jane Foster or Jasper Sitwell. Not tonight.

“Hey Nat, wanna get out?”

It took her a couple of seconds to realize that her boyfriend was actually talking to her. Overly eager to leave this place, she nodded and followed him. She knew what to expect when he headed to a guest room. For starters, he was drunk and while she was in no hurry to cross that line and James seemed to respect that, she knew he got incredibly horny after a couple of beers. And when he was horny, he got also angry very fast. Still, when he closed the door behind them, she let him embrace and kiss her. That was one of the things she disliked with him; his urge to show he owned her. Not everything was bad; his touches were enjoyable but only when sober. She figured she might let him feel her up a bit then push him away. He was usually satisfied after a bit of groping.

This time though, his hands were much more insistent as he pushed her against the wall and slipped one under her shirt, the other one unbuttoning her jeans.

“James, stop it” she hissed, slapping his wandering hands away. Her boyfriend didn’t seem to listen either. He nuzzled her neck and whispered huskily:

“C’mon darling, you must be the only one in the whole high school who hasn’t gotten any.” His hands groped her butt rather forcefully and pulled her against his front, but that was the last drop. Natasha pushed him off –which wasn’t a hard task since he was halfway drunk and she was stronger than her small frame led to believe. He fell on his butt and stared up at her with a lost look. She glared at him in return.

“Sober up first _darling_. I’m leaving now.”

The young man blinked at her dizzily but she didn’t wait for an answer. She walked out of the room, picked up her jacket and left the house without saying goodbye.

 

 

Maybe she shouldn’t have left so abruptly, Natasha thought a while after. Walking to her house didn’t take over an hour and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d do it on her own, but night was radically different than plain daylight. She’d see details she usually never paid attention to, hear sounds that put her on edge. And the two guys walking up the street in front of her did not look very welcoming. Both looked bulky and strong and while she could take care of herself, Natasha wasn’t sure she’d manage a face-to-face with two brainless thugs. Now, she truly wished she had called a cab to bring her home. She hoped till the last second they were going to just bypass her, ignore her and be on their merry way. She had no such luck.

“Hey gorgeous, whatch’a doin’ on your own so lat’at night?”

Natasha ignored them and kept walking. Unfortunately, they weren’t discouraged so easily. One grabbed her shoulder and pulled her backwards.

“Let me go!” she hissed, planting her fingernails in his hand to make him release her. He narrowed his eyes in return, clearly displeased.

“C’mon, we just wanna hav’ a bit o’fun…”

“Hey Nat!”

While she was focusing on the two thuds, a car had showed up in the street and stopped at their level. Natasha never felt so grateful to see Barton’s face in passenger seat. The two guys glared at the teenager.

“Get ‘way kid, we’re dealin’ with s’me bus’ness ‘ere.” Barton, thankfully, ignored them.

“Hurry and jump in Nat, we’re gonna be late at the Heli’.” He added, motioning for her to come forwards. She didn’t miss a beat and hurried to the back door, opened and slipped in. Two boys were already sitting there, a black guy dressed in baggy pants and dark green shirt and a dark-haired teenager wearing large glasses and light brown shirt–she recognized them belonging to the group Barton hung around with. A young woman was behind the wheel. Natasha didn’t have time to open her mouth to greet or thank them that the car started with a high-pitch screeching sound and bolted down the empty streets. They had barely made a tight turn that Barton twisted on his seat to face her with a reproachful frown.

“What the hell were you thinkin’! walkin’ all ‘lone at night?”

“Contrary to popular belief, it’s not safe around here.” The woman behind the wheel added. “Especially if you are a girl.”

“Yeah, and with those creeps hangin’ ‘round since those fuckers from Hydra d’cided to jump back in th’ Street.” She was about to ask what was Hydra when he went on: “you would’ve been in deep shit sweetheart.”

She glared back.

“It’s _Romanoff_ , Barton.”

Natasha didn’t expect earning the sudden attention of the whole car. Binocular, Black Guy and Behind-the-Wheel (nicknames by default) stared at her –thought the review in the case of the woman- with wide or surprised eyes.

“You’re _the_ Natasha Romanoff?” Binocular asked. “The chick Clint got detention for?”

“I didn’ get detention for her” Barton protested. “I just pissed off Pietrovitch ‘cause he was bein’ a bitch.”

“Still, in the hopes of rescuing a damsel from a dreadful fate you spent some quality time with the biggest molester of our high school. Brave Clint, brave.” Behind-the-Wheel said, a smirk growing over her face. The two other boys sniggered. Barton grimaced and turned back to face the road. “Anyway, _miss_ Romanoff” the woman added, insisting with sarcasm on the ‘miss’. “I’m driving these idiots to the club then I’ll drop you off at your place. Good with that?”

Natasha wanted to say it wasn’t necessary to drive her back home, but she had no idea where they were going and had no desire to meet other odd guys again.

“All good. Thank you for helping me out.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” Barton replied for everyone. “An’ by the way, the rude idiots who didn’ introduced th’mselves yet are Bruce, Rhodey an’ Maria.”

Bruce Banner and Maria Hill, she suspected immediately. The third name didn’t ring a bell though, so Bobbi mustn’t have gathered anything scandalous on him.

“Nice to meet you” she replied automatically. Bruce and Rhodey grunted and nodded in reply and Maria kept her eyes on the road. Barton turned the radio station on and turned the tune up. A blasting R&B song echoed through the car, the basses resonating in loud ‘boom, boom, boom’. It was nothing like the stuff Natasha listened –she was more into jazz and blues with some pop rock at times- but she realized she didn’t mind much. Although she couldn’t make out the lyrics, she surprised himself nodding to the beat at times and trying to catch the melody. The boys started to talk, something about the street and singing, but she didn’t pay a great deal of attention, too busy staring out of the window.

She didn’t recognize that part of downtown; the streets were halfway deserted -aside for a couple of people standing in front of opened doors taking a smoke. Given the blue neon at the entrance, Natasha assumed it must have been a nightclub or something. She was right. And that was their destination. Maria pulled over with a loud screech and braked harshly, nearly shoving all passengers in their fron seat –or in Clint’s case, the windshield.

“Out of the car guys!” she barked. “I got a girl to drive back home.”

Bruce and Rhodey complied without protest. Barton however, glanced at her through the review mirror and asked.

“By the way sweetheart, wanna come with us?”

“She’s dressed like a fucking princess.” Maria said with a snort before Natasha even think of a reply. “They are going to eat her raw down there.”

Dressed like a princess was actually a nice pair of jeans she had paid over fifty bucks for and a brown jacket covering a white and red T-shirt. Nothing extremely smart and noticeable, but maybe a tidbit too nice for this place. Considering the clothes the others were wearing, Natasha corrected herself mentally, definitively too nice.

“Don’ you have some change of clothes in your trunk?” Barton went on, ignoring her narrowing eyes. “I mean, I s’ppose you got your stage stuff stuck back there.”

“My ‘stage stuff’ is home.” Maria replied dryly, but something in her eyes told Natasha she was considering the option. “Anyway, that’s still if the girl wants to crash the party.”

The two turned towards the redhead. Natasha evaluated her options: go back home and fume on her own, or get herself involved into something that clearly wasn’t her world? She slipped out of her jacket, grabbed the sleeves of her shirt and tore them. Then, she untied her hair and let it loose over her shoulders.

“That’ll be good enough?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Trousers’ still too much” Maria commented, but there weren’t any sarcasm in her tone, just a stated evaluation. “What size are you? I might have something that’ll fit you.”

She dug up a leggings and a pair of short jeans that would do. The torn tee showed enough of her busty bosom and the bottoms clung to her curves nicely. But when she came out changing of the backseat of the car, Natasha actually felt comfortable. Although, if Bobbi caught her wearing that, she’d earn a three hours lecture on decency and how tops, bottoms and shoes were supposed to match. On the boys’ end, Rhodey whistled in appreciation, Bruce’s glasses fell lower on his nose as his eyebrows shot upwards and Barton checked her out shamelessly.

“With that outfit, Sif’s gonna want to battle her if she’s down tonight.” Maria muttered. It was probably not meant for Natasha to hear, but she still did and it made her wonder what exactly she was getting into. “Now that we’re right in time to show up fashionably late, what we’re waiting for guys?”

 

 

The club was packed and filled with people dancing to the beat of a mix of techno and R&B. With Bruce, Rhodey and Barton melting in the crowd as soon as they arrived, Maria pulled her by the hands, cutting though the crowd to reach the bar. A few waiters were running behind, but as soon as they approached, a strawberry redhead waved at them.

“Pepper” Maria greeted with a nod.

“Hey” ‘Pepper’ greeted back with a tired smile. “I thought you were never going to make it. Tony has been bitching all night because his favorite reactor crashed and he wanted Bruce to take a look at it.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, we had to make a stop.” Maria replied with a shrug. “A girl Clint knows was being bullied.”

The bartender glanced at Natasha for the first time and raised an eyebrow. Natasha smiled shyly in return.

“Want something to drink?” Pepper offered.

“You should probably go on the dance floor for now” Maria cut in, nodding towards the crowd. “I have a feeling Clint’s going to want to drown you with booze later. And it’s not too crowded right now, so you better take advantage of that.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest, but the look the older woman shot her made her rethink her course of action. The rise of an eyebrow was enough to shoo her away and she mixed with the other dancers. She started moving, swinging her hips, shaking her shoulders on the beat of the music. She felt self-conscious at first, meddling with people she didn’t know and dancing alone. Soon enough she realized no-one was paying particularly attention to her and only then managed to get loose. Her short heels held their ground on the floor as she moved smoothly; forgetting everything her teachers had taught her in ballet. No rules to follow, no expectations, just get loose and enjoy herself.

“Oh I think things are getting warm over here!” the DJ suddenly roared in his mike. The dancers shouted their agreement. “And did I see right? Did I see right? Yes I did! Battle’s on!”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically as it parted into a circle in a far corner. All around her, dancers had stopped and were gathering in attempt to catch a glimpse of the ‘battle’.

“C’mooooon guys I can’t hear you! This is Loki and Hawkeye!” the DJ taunted.

Loki? Hawkeye? What was with these names? The crowd seemed to go wild though, acclaiming the two with shouts of encouragement. The DJ put a rather extremely loud R&B kind of song and started mixing with an impressive talent.

Curiosity won over and she made her way through the pack of people. What she saw made her drop her jaw. In the center of the improvised ring, a tall, dark-haired teenager was dancing with a surprising mixture of roughness and grace. He made an odd –but impressive- undulation of his body before throwing himself on the ground and executing gymnastic and hip-hop figures after figures. When he was done, he jumped back on his feet, crossed his arms and nodded with a smirk to someone standing ahead of him. Natasha twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of whoever was the guy’s opponent and…stood speechless.

On the other side of the circle, _Barton_ was making a nice demonstration of robot dancing, his body moving in odd angles effortlessly. He jumped forwards, landed on one hand, legs balancing back and forth, before landing on his feet in a perfect reversed leap. His arms waved first, followed by his entire body before he spun on himself thrice. Before she realized what she was doing, Natasha had started cheering with the others, jumping and moving to the rhythm of the music…

 


	3. Chapter 3

3.

 

Natasha woke up hangover.

She had never been a heavy drinker, but dear God she recognized the signs of hangover anywhere. The arching, pounding headache, the heavy limbs, particularly resisting eyelids…she must have outdone herself the previous night. With a painful groan, she started to shift position in her bed and…

Wait a second. This wasn’t her bed. The mattress didn’t feel the same; neither did the sheets and the smell…spices? And wait again, was that someone _breathing_ next to her?

Natasha opened her eyes in a flash. The sleeping, peaceful face of Clint Barton rested inches away from hers. Oh God, she thought silently freaking out, what had she done now?

She slipped out of the bed as quietly as she could, somehow managed to find the exit door without trouble and step out noiselessly. It wasn’t until she had closed it behind that she realized one tiny little detail: she wasn’t in her usual clothes. The leggings was gone leaving her legs veeeeery bare. The T-shirt she had obviously slept in barely covered her up her thighs –thank God she still had her panties. Natasha was seriously considering returning into the bedroom to search for some bottoms when she spotted Bruce walking up her way. His hair looked messier than the night before, falling over his spectacles in tangled unruly curls, yet his steps were steady and at straight pace. Only the occasional grunt told her he had a hard time waking up too.

“Oh, Nat.” he said a bit startled when he saw her. “I didn’t know you were staying.”

No comments on her lack of clothing and he kept his eyes on her face. Wow, that was a first.

“Neither did I.” she mumbled. Bruce looked amused.

“Hangover?” She nodded. He chuckled and nodded towards the closest door. “C’mon, I’ll lead you to the kitchen. There’ll have some aspirin somewhere.”

Natasha followed him wordlessly; her headache was a convincing argument enough. That and really, since the world decided she would embarrass herself this morning, she might as well do it with a bang.

They walked through a couple of corridors before arriving in a large yellow room. The redhead actually blinked when she crossed the threshold: a huge table set for at least twenty people was occupying most of the space and the kitchen was equipped with two stoves and three microwaves. Was this place a sort of collective residence?

“Hey Lily.”

Bruce’s voice made her realize they weren’t alone; a small girl was sitting on the edge of the table, focused on coloring a sheet of paper. She looked up, smiled at the young man before glancing at Natasha.

“Hello?” the redhead said awkwardly.

The little girl stared at her a few seconds before returning to her drawings.

“Sorry” Bruce said with a shrug. “Gillian’s a bit shy with strangers. Lily? This is Natasha a good friend of Clint so be nice with her okay?”

“’Kay.” Gilliam mumbled without raising her head. Shy indeed, Natasha thought. Bruce’s next question caught her interest:

“Where’s your mom Lily?”

“Bedroom.” The girl mumbled, using a particularly bright red over some green. “She said back asap.”

“Good. What do you take for breakfast Natasha?”

Maria chose that moment to enter the kitchen. She was dressed with a casual pair of black jeans, deep blue shirt, wearing light make up and her hair tied in a high ponytail. She was also carrying a bag containing the clothes Natasha was wearing the past night. Gillian looked up and grinned, and Natasha remembered Bobbi’s words about Maria being a young mother. At second glance, the little girl did look a lot like Maria; they did share the same features, safe for the smile.

“Hi” Maria said and handed Natasha the bag. She didn’t blink or ask questions about the redhead’s attire. “I thought you’d need that this morning. There’s a bathroom over there” she showed a secluded door in a corner. “Feel free to take a shower.”

The redhead thanked her and did just that. When she came back, Gillian and Bruce were gone and Maria picking bowls and cutlery from the drawers. Natasha helped her set the table and sat down. She engulfed two pills of aspirin with a large glass of water and hoped sincerely it would work its magic fast. The shower had helped her alleviate the headache, but it hadn’t all disappeared. The older woman looked amused –and perfectly not hangover although the redhead was sure she had drank as much –if not more- than her.

“Next time, I’m sticking a no-no alcohol sign on your forehead. As amusing as it was, you would be mortified if you remembered what you did.”

Natasha blinked and stared warily at the older woman. Maria stared right back at her, chewing her cereals impassively.

“That bad? What happened?” The redhead had never drunk over the border, she knew her limits. Or she thought she did.

“You may have drunk one shot or ten.” Maria replied nonchalantly. “You’re not used to it. Give it a couple of weeks of practice and you’ll be fine.”

“One shot or…” Natasha’s voice trailed off as a very dreadful feeling invaded her. “What the heck did I _do_?”

The light smirk on the older woman’s face did nothing to lift her anguish.

“Nothing too bad. You flirted with a lot of guys –Clint wasn’t happy about that; and couple of girls too –that was more of a turn on.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed red. “Broke some groping hands –got thanked by a few for that –nearly got into a fight with a girl from the Asgard crew and ended up battling her. You didn’t hand her back her ass, but you did some quite impressive figures.”

“Asg- _what_?” the redhead repeated, blinking hard to focus. “A battle? I fought someone?”

“Not in the sense you’d expect. See,” Maria started as she lifted her spoon, dripping with milk and Cheerios on the table. “Crews are sort of…let’s say street gangs but only interested in dancing challenges –at least most of them are. Clint, Bruce, Rhodes and I belong to the Shield Crew. The Helicarrier –that’s the name of the club we went to yesterday –is the best place for crews to show off. Sometimes underground competitions are organized so crews can battle each other; that’s what we call the Street. You’re following so far?”

Natasha nodded.

“So basically I got into a dance battle with a girl belonging to a crew named Asga-something. And I lost.”

Maria lifted her glass of orange juice for cheering.

“With your head way up high. It was a beautiful duel. Even Tony approved. The DJ” she added when Natasha blinked in confusion. “He thanks you for not breaking his fingers too by the way.”

The redhead snorted and picked up an apple. If only she could recall what had actually happened, she wouldn’t feel so bad…or given Maria’s smirk, maybe she’d better not remember. A heavy set of steps pulled her out of her dreamy state. When she turned around, she saw a man in his late twenties entering the kitchen, dressed in suit with tie. At first, she had to stare, because no-way a man dressed with a suit would wander in this house. Then she remembered she was not supposed to stare when she had crashed said house for the night without asking permission first. Plus, she didn’t know who lived there exactly. Clint, Maria and her daughter and Bruce seemed to have their own room. She hadn’t seen Rhodey yet so maybe he had gone elsewhere.

The man-in-a-suit smiled and held out his hand, seeming unsurprised by her presence.

“My name is Phil Coulson, I am the owner of this house and Clint’s legal guardian.”

“Natasha Romanoff.” She replied politely, shaking the offered hand. “I’m a classmate of Barton’s.”

“Y’know calling me by my first name ain’t gonna kill you. Or me for the matter.”

Natasha turned around to snap back at the young man when all thought froze. Barton was standing in the doorway, hair wet from a shower and _bare_ - _chested_. She couldn’t stop the ‘ _OMG look at those freaking abs!_ ’ run through her mind; he had indeed nicely defined muscles, a perfectly drawn six-pack and very, very broad shoulders. How come she hadn’t noticed before? Her mild attraction must have shown on her face, because Clint smirked smugly.

“Nice eh?” he said cockily. Phil and Maria rolled their eyes. Natasha still had a hard time tearing her gaze away. “I’ll eat later. Loki beat my ass yesterday. Gotta be ready for the next round.”

“Next round is in minimum a week away” Maria said. “Don’t try to ditch your homework.”

“I won’t Mom” he replied with a grimace. Then, he turned towards Natasha. “I can tour you ‘round the house if ya want? You gotta see the dance practice room!” he suddenly sounded like an overexcited puppy. Before she could answer, he ran to her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind him.

 

 

“The building’s an old warehouse. Phil bought it years ago and renovated it ‘to a sort of big house with tons of bedroom. Guys from the crew often crash down here when we get wasted.” Barton hadn’t shut up since they started the visit tour. He’d comment on the rooms, on the corridors, tell her anecdotes and stories that made her smile. Why he was so talkative and eager to show her around though, she didn’t understand. They weren’t even friends to begin with. “Would ya believe me if I told ya Phil started the Shield Crew? Use to be an awesome dancer; but he hatta stop when he got heart problems. He’s still awesome by the way, but can’t do some figures ‘nymore.”

“He’s got to have some money.” She mused, remembering the whole kitchen and a few rooms they had gone by.

“Sort of” Clint replied with a shrug. “I know he started writin’ after he stopped dancin’. His books aren’t big hits but they sell and he gives conferences so yeah, guess he’s loaded enough. The guys still pay a small toll when they come ‘round over three days. Or they brin’ their own snacks. Rhodey’s the only one who likes grape and that odd cereal, so he brings his own stuff. I’m Phil’s ward so I’m lodged for free, but if I wan cash, gotta work for it.”

He stopped in front of a large door. “And here is the masterpiece of this place.” He turned the handle and pushed it open. “The trainin’ room!”

Given what she had seen from the house, Natasha was expecting a classic training room like she’d see in a ballet or dance room. She did not expect a perfectly polished floor with a wall entirely covered with mirrors, a space covered with what she assumed to be mattresses and a freaking wall of two meters high and five long in the middle of it all. Three people were already in motion; two she didn’t know were practicing a slow duo while the other –Rhodey- was bouncing on a trampoline and making incredible figures she only saw on TV.

“This place is huge.” She admitted in a hushed whisper.

“Ain’t it?” Clint piped in with a grin. “It’s been the Shield HQ forever. If you ever wanna try it, just show up!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She replied seriously. After last night, she definitively wouldn’t mind using such a room and people here had a different approach to dance. She would actually love to watch and learn from them. “If it’s okay with you?” she added quickly.

The bright grin on the teen’s face was an answer enough.

 

 

Clint lived and breathed for a few things, Natasha learned that morning, but the main one was dance. He had started at twelve to impress a girl and had never stopped since then. She also found out they had many things in common: they bounded over some books, argued over movies, mentioned music and of course, dance. Needless to say, Clint never got to train that morning.

She still declined his invitation to stay for lunch, feeling she had worn out her welcome. Maria had also casually reminded the teenager that he had obligations that afternoon. So, he drove her back to her house, chatting happily all the way, insisting again and again that she called him by his first name yet not dropping the 'sweetheart' nickname. After a while, Natasha just gave up. 

Once home, she spent the majority of the afternoon finishing her homework, cleaning the house and practicing a piece of ballet she had learned the last session. Her parents wouldn't be home until the next Wednesday at best so she had far enough time on her own. A little voice in the back of her head that she should have probably stayed at Clint’s place, but she liked being alone from time to time too.

It wasn't until past six that she received a message from the external world.

_‘Hey sweetheart :) What’ya doin?’_

She frowned. The name of the sender was Clint. When did she enter Barton’s number in her contact list? Perhaps sometime during her overly wasted time the previous day…the second text came seconds after:

_‘BTW don’t fret. I added my number in ur phone yesterday. Forgot 2 mention it’_

_‘I’m not ‘fretting’’_ She typed back. ‘ _And FYI I was doing homework. Got a late essay to finish for tomorrow.’_

The response was immediate.

_‘Liar, liar, pants on fire. U always finish ur homewok 3 days b-fore D-day. If u don’t wanna chat, just say so :-P’_

The corner of her mouth tugged upwards. Was he bluffing, or did he truly know that she was indeed done and was just planning to read a book? The excuse always worked with James or Bob- speaking of which, she suddenly realized, she hadn’t heard from them since the previous night. They hadn’t tried to reach her after the party…Oh well, she’d see them tomorrow anyway.

_‘Sorry, just tired.’_

_‘No prob, I understand. We sure were busy last night ;)’_

_‘How did I end up in your bed anyway?_ ’ she typed, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks. That was something she actually hadn’t dare speak of face-to-face. She was pretty sure nothing had happened but…

_‘U invited yourself there sweetheart n tried 2 seduce me 2! Sure as hell wasn’t complaing, u got awesome hands n mouth n a gorgeous body ;)’_

_‘WHAT???_ ’ pleasenopleasenopleaseno, she thought feeling the embarrassment grow every second, please I didn’t do what I think I did…

_‘Just messin with u lol. U were drunk, I wasn’t in the mood 2 carry U upstairs 2 the guest room, so just brought u 2 my bed. There was a bit of making out –check ur left shoulder for bite marks if u don’t blive me- but nothin else :D’_

Natasha was sure Clint knew she was off to the bathroom to check said shoulder. She didn’t know what to feel when she saw a vague red trace in the form of a…Oh shit.

_‘Thank you for bringing me home safely_ ’ she eventually typed lamely. How was she supposed to answer that?

_‘Anytime sweetheart :3 If U want 2 have some true fun again, call me!’_

_‘Shall do’_ she replied, hesitated, and then added a smiling smiley. Yes, she would definitively do.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I had an alternative idea for the plot and figured I might as well change a few things in the story from now on. Next chapter is 1/4th done, so with some luck it'll be finished by the end of the week (although this is a busy week...fingers crossed I'll have time at all ^^") 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy!

 

‘ _Anytime sweetheart :3 If U want 2 have some true fun again, call me!’_

_‘Shall do’ she replied, hesitated, and then added a smiling smiley. Yes, she would definitively do._

 

**4.**

 

And she did, the very next week-end.

She blamed her quick call on the fact she was utterly bored at school and her parents were still on their business trip for the next couple of days. Moreover, she hadn’t quite forgiven James for his groping mood and Bobbi for not checking up on her and had declined spending time with them. Steve had naively wondered why, but submissive as he was, didn't inquire further.

Clint welcomed her with a huge grin but this time, didn’t overbore her with comments as they walked through the warehouse. He was grinning happily and making small talk but nothing exuberant.

Natasha wondered what had triggered such a change.

“I’ll introduce you quickly to the crew. They're the only guys who'll be trainin’ anyway,” he said before pushing the door open. Contrary to the previous day, the room was in full activity now: in addition to the ones she already knew, a couple of newcomers were there, training or talking. “You already know Bruce, Maria and Rhodes.” He vaguely waved in the direction of the person he named: Bruce was executing what she suspected was a routine of moondance and shuffle, Maria was stretching against a bar, and Rhodes talking with another tall guy. “Bruce and Eyes of Wisdom over there,” - he pointed a half-bald teen working on a radio, and Natasha was surprised to recognize Jasper Sitwell - “are the techs of the crew. Well, there’s also Tony and Pepper but they’re not here today. Everythin’ related to recordin’ stuff, ask Jas. For mikes and wires, ask Bruce. Anything to do with music or remixes, you send to Iron Man.”

“Iron Man?”

“Yeah, Tony’s official DJ name. Look him up on Google some time,” Clint added nonchalantly. “I think you met Pepper already?” Natasha nodded, remembering the bartender of the Helicarier. “She's Tony's manager and while she's at it, takes care of our stuff. They’re the ones who make sure the show goes on. Then you have Maria and Phil –you met him yesterday at breakfast. They’re the choreographers. They're creepily awesome at figuring out what's best for everyone.”

Bits and parts of their last conversation came back to her.

“I thought you said Phil couldn’t dance anymore?” she said, raising her eyebrows in puzzlement.

“Couldn’t do everythin’ he used to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about,” Clint corrected with a shrug. “Next, we got Rhodey and me, dancers-slash-stunt guys. Anythin’ involvin’ muscles or real-time stunts, we’re on it. Bruce joins too sometimes, when he actually feels like dancin’.” Without interrupting his routine, Bruce flipped the bird at Clint from afar. “And the rest love to show off-”

“Friend Clint!”

Both teens jumped at the sound of the booming voice. The tall blonde who was talking with Rhodey suddenly stood next to them, a beaming smile on his face.

“Hey, big guy!” Clint said, fist-bumping him. “How's life treatin’ you?”

“Life has done me good lately. I believe I do not know your friend.”

“Ah, yeah. Well, here's Natasha. Sweetheart, meet Theodore, nickname Thor from the Asgard crew.” Clint introduced quickly. Natasha thought the name sounded familiar.

“I heard you nearly bested our dear Sidney at the Helicarrier the other night.” he said with an impressed expression. “She was thoroughly impressed.”

“Thank you,” she replied warily.

Clint waited until the newcomer had gone before adding:

“Asgard and Shield crews are tight, 'specially for competitions. Core members assemble an' we form the 'Avengers', so they com' to train here from time to time. That guy, Thor, he's their leader. He brings the Warriors Three crew, Sif - I mean Sidney - and his fuckin' brother with him.”

Something clicked in the back of Natasha's mind as she remembered the morning after their night at the Helicarrier.

“Let me guess, is his brother Loki?”

He stared at her.

“How did you know?”

She smirked.

“Anyway, how does this work?” she asked without answering. Clint shrugged.

“You warm up in your corner. Squat someplace. Train, do whatever. It's no different from a normal trainin' room, ain't it?” Natasha was tempted to invite him at her ballet lesson so he could realize how huge this place was. “Well since you’re already all dressed up, I’ll leave you to your business. I got stuff to do so, see you in a bit!”

And upon these words, Natasha just stared as he left hurriedly and disappeared behind a door. Seeing that no-one was paying attention to her, she settled her stuff against the wall and started. She took her time warming up while glancing at the others as they trained on their side. Bruce and Rhodey had taken off their shirts and were working a duet. Maria was testing moves in front of large mirrors, watched by an awed little Gillian. Clint hadn’t reappeared yet and Jasper had left too. The three or four others Clint hadn't introduced her to continued to practice on their own as well. It was a nice change, she supposed. No common rehearsal, no teacher glaring if you didn’t raise your leg high enough…

When she deemed herself ready, Natasha stood up and moved towards one large panel mirror to practice the usual stretching and basic moves. Kick, chassé, a couple of spins...and suddenly she ducked an invisible bar, jumped over a nonexistent obstacle and froze perfectly still. No music reached her ears, all her focus was on the slowness of her movements. The first time she had tried this exercise, it had reminded her of yoga; except she adapted it at various levels of speed.

Lost in her routines, Natasha soon forgot where she was; that people were there as well. She just finished something she had been dying to try for weeks when she noticed Maria approaching.

“Where did you learn that last move?” she asked with curiosity. Natasha felt her ears turn red, oddly pleased at her interest.

“I looked up stuff on youtube,” she replied nervously. “But I never had the space to practice.”

“So this was the first time?” Natasha nodded. Maria blinked. “You're good. Could you show me?”

The redhead remembered what Barton had told her about Maria being a choreographer and explained by reproducing the odd pirouette-slash-backward jump at slower motion. To her surprise, it didn't take more than two demonstrations before Maria caught the trick. Or at least, so she claimed.

“Maria's got an eye for those things.”

Natasha hadn’t heard him approached and jumped, startled to see Clint standing right behind her. The young man grinned widely. Maria rolled her eyes.

“Stop scaring others with your creepy sneaking skills. You’ll give someone a heart attack one day.”

“Gillian’s asking for you in the kitchen,” he replied nonchalantly, ignoring her stare. The brunette rolled her eyes again and took off. Barton turned towards Natasha and asked, “Do you want some music?” “Why not?” She replied. “You’re going to watch?”

“Blame me, I’m curious about what you can do.” Clint said with a challenge in his eyes. He headed towards the hifi and pushed play.

The music was a good old R’n’B, not something Natasha was used to, but could deal with. She let her instincts take over and lost herself in the melody. She didn’t know much of hip-hop; her style wasn’t close to their modern, street-dance techniques; but she was a good observer and a fast learner.

One of the reasons she had been so eager to return was the lack of pressure. She could do anything without people judging her. She watched and studied dances she found on youtube or other streaming websites but as she told Maria, she didn't have enough space. Her teachers would never allow her to practice in their training rooms and while her own room was larger than standard, it wasn't enough.

What she had watched, she absorbed and made it hers, allowing her body to contort and bend and jump. She stretched after a spin, threw her head back, bent one knee and threw a high-kick. Using her flexibility she then landed on her forearm and twisted her body in an odd fashion. Back on her feet, she executed a series of shuffling and twisting before shifting on to jumpstyle and back to a mix of shuffle and classic.

It was exhausting but it felt good, she thought. Suddenly, she realized that Clint had joined her and was trying to mirror her. His approach was wildly different from hers, but they were literally dancing around each other, baiting and spurring each other on, touching and brushing and Natasha loved it.

He took a step back, started spinning in his own world and Natasha stopped dancing and watched, knowing what he was doing. She had seen that same attitude back at the Helicarrier the previous week; he wanted to ‘battle’ her with a demonstration of his skills and she was truly impressed. Most of the moves and techniques he used were considered dangerous - she knew it, she had read enough books and watched enough videos - but he made it look so effortless, the muscles of his forearms and shoulders contracting and flexing, slightly sweaty as he pounced on them repetitively…When he was done, he raised that same challenging eyebrow and gave her a cocky smirk. _Show me what you can do_. She smirked back again, and did.

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha tripped. It was stupid and so banal, a routine for her, not even a rookie mistake. But her mind and body were too caught up in the dance, her attention too focused on that infuriating rival that kept matching her again and again. She didn't notice the cloth lying on the ground and when her feet got caught into it, she fell.

Her body didn’t hit the ground though; a strong arm caught her and pulled her flat against something softer – although still strong - and warm.

“You okay?” Clint asked quietly. Natasha almost rolled her eyes at the cliché – of course he’d catch her.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she replied as he held her until she stood still. He had large hands, she realized, as they sized her waist firmly. They were warm too. “My pride took the worst,” she added quickly to hide her emerging embarrassment.

There was something unsettling in his gaze. His face was serious, lips parted as he panted from their duel. Pearls of sweat were forming over his eyebrows, a drop slid down his temple, cheek, corner of his mouth...

Someone cleared his throat. Too focused on their little dancing duel, Natasha had forgotten they weren’t alone. The whole room had stopped their workout to stare at them, everyone looking slightly impressed.

So was the black man dressed with a leather coat standing in the doorway.

Natasha quickly pulled away and oddly, felt the loss of his warmth. Clint cleared his throat, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

“Mr. Fury,” he greeted, his voice wavering. “I didn’t think you’d be here till five.”

The black man stared at him, then at the clock on the wall, then back at him. Natasha glanced in turn. Five thirty. Wow, she thought, time had gone pretty fast.

“Your name?” he asked staring straight at her, his voice strong with authority. Obviously that man was used to give orders – and being obeyed. Maria stood up and spoke on their behalf.

“She’s just a friend of Clint’s. She comes here to train with us sometimes.”

“Part of the crew?”

“We didn’t ask.” And her tone indicated she wasn't intending to.

“Shame,” Fury muttered, not moving his view from the redhead. Natasha felt uneasy under his direct stare and couldn’t stop the relief when he finally switched his focus to Maria. “Are you ready?”

The young woman nodded and grabbed her bag, quickly followed by Jasper. Once they were out the room, the redhead turned towards her partner.

“Who is that guy?” she asked him. Clint smiled warily.

“Nick Fury, better known as Nicolas Furholl. He’s the headmaster of a Creative Art School in Atlanta and a buddy of Phil’s. Basically he runs a company of live theater and a huge art school. He’s always headhuntin’ ‘round here for new recruits.”

“Recruits?” Natasha repeated, surprised.

“Yeah, dancers, singers, actors, that kind of gig. Believe it or not, this area’s got a lot of awesome guys. He’s set on hiring Maria as his assistant once she’s done with high-school – she’s been helpin’ him for a couple of months already. I think he’s been eyein’ me for a while, as a dancer or stunt guy.” Clint smiled faintly. “And apparently, he’s got you in his eyesight too.”

“Oh really?” Natasha replied, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Yeah, really. He asked for your name.” Clint shrugged as he added, “Be careful though. Bastard can sweet talk anyone into joinin’ his company if he thinks there’s potential. Impress him twice, you won’t have to do it thrice; he’ll be the one harassin’ you till you beg for mercy.”

Natasha made a mental note to do a little internet research on the guy once she got home.

“By the way, I know Maria implied that she wouldn' ask, but you do you wanna join the crew?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SO SO SORRY for the long wait. Life happens and muses decide to strike elsewhere so I had a hard time writing this...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

**5.**

Clint was working on a particularly difficult math problem when the door of his bedroom busted open. An utterly-pissed Maria stood fuming in the doorway.

"You asked her to join." No need to mention who was concerned. The young man glanced at his fuming friend innocently. "We talked about this before!" she went on. "You can't just ask random people to join without consulting the rest of the team!"

"You would have asked her eventually!" Clint protested, putting his pencil down. "I just…anticipated the thing."

Maria entered, slammed the door behind and walked up his desk. She crossed her arms and stared at him severely.

"Give me one reason, one goddamn reason for me not to kick your ass right now. Tell me you didn't ask because you had a goddamn crush on her forever and this was an opportunity to get closer to her."

"It's not it!" he protested, but under her knowing glare, admitted: "Okay, maybe it's part of it. But she's talented! Anyone can see that. Whatever crush I may or not have doesn't matter."

"For God's sake Clint, you barely know her!"

"I know her enough." He growled. "Listen Maria, I need you t'trust me. This girl is just awesome! I know she'll fit among us eas'ly. Ask the others -"

"Way ahead of you, buddy. They've got mixed feelings about this, especially since she's hanging out with Morse. I don't want that bitch here or I will beat her to a pulp."

"I don't wan' Morse back either!" Clint protested. "I know what she did, I was the first concerned, remember?"

Maria rubbed her temples tiredly.

"Sorry, I know. But what tells you Natasha isn't the same? She looks nice and she is definitely skilled, but…"

"But she is different. Trust me Maria, please. If she agrees…"

"You mean she didn't answer yet?"

"She said she'd think 'bout it. I'm tellin' you, she's different."

The brunette sighed and shook her head, knowing the young man wouldn't back off his decision.

"You have one month to convince me she's worth it. One month. After that, I'll ask the others again and we will decide together!"

"Fine! Fine!" he snapped, annoyed. "Anythin' else?"

"Phil wants to talk to you about some project. I'm not sure what it's about, but he's waiting for you in his office."

Clint rolled his eyes and put down his pen. He knew what Phil was about. He knew the man and Fury were tight, and both were very keen on having him join Fury's school after he graduated. Heck, he was almost part of that school already! Passing the entrance exam would be just a convention. The board of directors knew him and even asked him to teach classes or participate in demonstrations sometimes. There was no question whether or not he'd enter that school. Clint wanted to and he would succeed, especially if both Phil and Fury had his back. He still headed to the man's office anyway.

Phil was actively working on his laptop when he entered. Reading glasses on his nose, fingers typing, brows frown deeply… probably working on his new book, Clint assumed.

"Maria said you wanted ta talk to me?"

At the startled jump he gave, the man mustn't have even heard him come in.

"Ah, yeah. Please sit." Clint obeyed and made himself comfortable; he wasn't expecting to stay long but with Phil, he never truly knew. "I had a call from the police earlier today. Were you hanging around the Hydra district this afternoon?"

The blond didn't blink, didn't tense. He merely stared at his adoptive father angrily.

"You think I'm that stupid?" he snapped. "I quit dealing with those fuckers a while ago, y'know that. I've been clean for years!"

"One of their infiltrated agents thought they recognized you," Phil replied calmly.

"Listen, Phil," Clint growled, shifting position and leaning forwards. The subject always irritated him and that his tutor, a man he deeply trusted, suggested he even talked to them felt like a betrayal. "Hydra and Chitauries can go fuck themselves. I quit three years ago and ain't going back to them. I'm not…" he paused, swallowed and continued: "I ain't Barney. I care for fam'ly."

The man nodded, a soft glint of understanding crossing his eyes.

"That's what I told them, Clint, I just wanted to hear from your own mouth that you didn't set a foot on their territory." Phil glanced at his laptop again. "Well, just be careful. It seems Thanos tried to approach Loki again so I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to contact you too."

The young man snorted.

"Schmidt can try to recruit me all he wants, I'm Shield now."

A smirk grew on Phil's face.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear, kid."

* * *

Bruce was never one to rush into things. Before joining the crew, he was a loner. Not by choice though; after his father beat his mother to death and was thrown in jail, he was sent to live with his aunt and cousins. Clarissa Banner, in all honesty, had been quite fair to him and had tried to spare her time equally between him and his cousins, but she could only do so much. Her work in the military included moving around the country a lot and not having much time to settle properly.

It wasn't until the past two years that his aunt had apparently finally found a permanent place to stay. Still, Bruce was often left alone since his younger cousins acted recklessly more often than not and Clarissa trusted him enough to act like a proper adult. His only solaces through all these years were science and, oddly, hip-hop dance.

Science, he could say, he inherited from his father. Hip-hop was a passion he had developed on his own but had no real place or time to practice. A house of four including three kids under twelve didn't allow it. His only teachers were videos and DVDs and the few nightclubs he was accepted in. One night during an excursion, a man named Phil Coulson had approached him and offered to join his crew. Although he had been dying to accept at the time, Bruce had asked for a delay in his response. After a discussion with his aunt and a lot of pondering over the pros and cons, Bruce had showed up to the warehouse and been immediately enrolled as a key player in the crew.

Frequenting dance-freaks had encouraged him to progress and, in spite of himself, the Shield crew had become his family.

So when Maria announced them that Clint had invited Natasha Romanoff to join, Bruce's first reaction had been to take a step back and reflect. It was no secret that Clint had been soft on the redhead since middle school, but it did surprise him that after the Bobbi Morse fiasco, he would enroll her so fast. Either Clint had a blind trust in that girl, either he was…well, nuts. Love did make you take stupid decisions.

The compromise for Clint's impulsiveness had been that after a month trial, they would all decide whether the girl, given she accepted, could join the crew or not. Bruce approved. One month would give him and the others enough time to figure if she would turn into a liability or an asset for the crew. After all, the Street was mostly about dancing, but not all crews acted like Shield. He knew dark stories that shadowed some of his friends' past. If Natasha joined, she would have to realize that getting involved was not all roses and sunshine.

"Phil's driving Gillian to the kindergarten," Maria announced as he appeared in the kitchen that Monday morning. "You got twenty more ahead."

Bruce replied with a tired nod, wishing he could have slept those extra minutes, and immediately filled a cup of coffee. As he put the pot back, someone snatched the filled cup and started drinking. Bruce turned around and narrowed his eyes at the blond thief.

"That was mine."

"Was," Clint replied nonchalantly before taking another sip. "Key word is 'was'."

Bruce rolled his eyes and made himself another one. Chiding the young man would be useless, but he swore he'd get him back sometime. As he slowly emerged to a clearer world thanks to the caffeine, Jasper showed up, panicking about his late homework. Gillian piped in and talked about a cartoon she had been watching before breakfast. Clint ate anything he could put his hands on, mainly the waffles Rhodey had prepared earlier. Phil stared reproachfully at his ward from behind his laptop. Maria didn't give a damn and kept eating her cheerios.

In the midst of the light chaos, Bruce finished his cup and returned to his bedroom to pick up the book he had been reading before turning the lights off. Dance was his passion, but science was his true kick and the theory of gamma radiations quite interesting… He kept on reading on the way to school, ignoring the three other boys' attempt to distract him. When they arrived, Bruce's attention was slightly parted from the pages as Jasper raised his voice.

"Are you even listening to me?" he was talking to Clint, but the young man's attention was diverted elsewhere. When Bruce followed his gaze, he fell –unsurprisingly- on Natasha Romanoff.

She was talking with a blonde teen in the afar –Steve Rogers, he recognized. Nice guy, but a little too gullible in his opinion. After a few words exchanged, she didn't look too happy and promptly made a bee line for them, dumping the poor blond where he was. Clint's grin widened at her approach; if Bruce still had doubts on whether he was sweet on the redhead, they had completely vanished now. He vaguely wondered if Natasha had realized it or not yet.

"Mornin'!" the blonde greeted cheerfully. Bruce sighed heavily; his friend was just so painfully whipped.

"Hey. Had a good Sunday?"

Clint's mood seemed to dim a little, but so subtly that Bruce nearly missed it. He wondered if it was due to Maria's telling off or something else.

"As good as it can be. What 'bout you?"

"Same. Listen, I thought about your offer and…" she took a deep breath in. "I'm in. You guys are amazing and I'd be honored to join if the offer still stands."

"Course it does!" Clint cut, a huge beam spreading across his features. If Bruce hadn't been concerned about the issue of having another crew member that couldn't be trusted, he'd have been very amused. "We're starting training for the next trial by fire tomorrow. Wanna tag along?"

"Clint!" Maria snapped angrily before taking a deep breath. The young man winced. Bruce figured he might as well intervene too. If he was the one speaking, then perhaps Maria wouldn't be too upset.

"It's another routine competition," he explained to Natasha. "But we take this seriously. If you don't think you can manage to follow - since you've got more of a classical background and all - you can join later." He then turned towards Maria. "Weren't you thinking of trying something different this time? Natasha's input could be useful…"

"It's set then!" Clint chirped happily. Bruce glared at him, silently telling him to keep silent. But Maria didn't seem to care. Actually, she looked like she had found something interesting to consider. Bruce vaguely hoped that it wouldn't include any new training from hell. The young woman's secret grin - a slight upwards tug of the corner of the mouth that everyone including Fury had come to fear - unfortunately confirmed it. _Well_ , he thought sarcastically, _the new girl is in for a surprise_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

**6**

"Alright, guys, let's call it a day. Thank you for your hard work," Maria announced, clapping her hands to indicate the rehearsal was done. Natasha was relieved she wasn't the only one who almost crumbled to the floor out of exhaustion. Next to her, Clint looked like he could use a good nap, yet was grinning his usual megawatt smile. She accepted his hand to help her stand up – she was supposed to practice a move on the floor – and marveled the strength in his arm when he pulled her up.

"So, what's your first impression?" he asked, chipper as ever. Natasha groaned.

"I didn't realize rehearsal was another word for 'torture'."

Jasper and Bruce were heading towards the exit. Rhodey was spread out on the carpet. Only Thor –who had joined them for practice with two people from another crew –looked passably rested. Phil and Maria were talking actively in their corner, the young woman's skin glowing from the sweat. Barton tapped on her shoulder to get her attention.

"Say, I know a coffee place around the corner. They make killer waffles if you're interested."

Natasha didn't hesitate.

"Let me take a shower and I'm right behind you."

The coffee shop did offer killer waffles, as Clint had promised. They also had awesome smoothies and cookies, and the staff was actually friendly. He explained that most of the crew came here after practice whenever they had the opportunity so the waiters _kinda_ knew them by now. This was evidenced by the fact that Clint didn't even have to place his order; the small, good-looking waitress merely asked if he wanted the usual.

"You never answered me," Barton said as she was savoring a bite of chocolate-strawberry waffle with sugar icing. "What do you think of the training sessions?"

They had been training for a week already, more than enough time for her to make her own opinion. Natasha took her time chewing and swallowing.

"Tiring," she shot back, and he smiled knowingly. "I mean, Maria's a bit of a slave-driver and I'm not entirely used to that dance style yet so it's understandable I guess…"

"And believe it or not, Maria was totally managing you," he replied with that amused grin on his face. "You know, half of the guys actually spend about a half hour doing abs and stretching every night to keep up. Ya might wanna start that."

Natasha groaned again, took another bite, but didn't bitch about it. It made sense, having to reinforce your body some way so it could support the exercise. Clint didn't attempt to continue a conversation after that, so they ate in a relatively comfortable silence. It wasn't until they finished their respective orders that Clint took a sensibly deep breath and asked:

"So uh…it's Saturday. Do you wanna hang out if you don't have any plan this afternoon?"

Natasha opened her mouth to agree, but a little bell rang in her mind. She genuinely felt disappointed when she replied, "Sorry, I'm going on a date with James. I've been kind of neglecting him lately."

Clint was a great guy, she was coming to realize. Even after knowing him for barely a couple of days, she felt they would be close friends in time. But then, she had other… _acquaintances_ and responsibilities, even if Bobbi was a pain and James a bit groping, they were still her friends. She just wished it didn't feel like a chore.

"Oh." Clint looked even more disappointed. "Well, if you ever change your mind, you have my number," He added, trying to act cheerfully again.

She gave him a sorry smile and checked her watch.

"Speaking of which, I gotta go." She pulled a couple of bills and left it on the table. "Thanks again for this morning. It was really helpful."

"Sure," Clint replied with a fake smile. "Have fun."

He watched her Natasha with a pang in his chest, way after she pushed the door on her way out like the horribly, _horribly_ whipped guy he was. Apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Aw, ain't that sad. You got dumped by your girlfriend, birdbrain?" Clint stiffened. He knew that voice. He knew that voice way too well. "Mind if I sit with ya, fella? I have a feeling you need some briefing about ladies. But don't worry, Iron Man knows it all."

Tony Stark fell into the seat Natasha was occupying barely two minutes earlier. Clint glared at him.

"What is it you want?" he asked dryly. Stark smirked.

"Like I said, you looked sad. Let me…"

"You're the bigges' womanizer in town, Tony," Clint reminded him, none too gently. "I don' want your advice."

"But my heart belongs to one alone," the dark-haired man replied with a dramatic shrug, and before the young man could reply, he added: "So that cute little redhead already has a boyfriend? She's the chick you've been pinning for the past three years?"

"Five years," Clint corrected him halfheartedly. "But she's got a boyfriend already." Tony's grin widened.

"Don't worry 'bout that, birdbrain. You heard the way she talked about the guy? She wanted to go as much as she'd want to sit on a cactus."

The younger man shrugged.

"Doesn't mean a thing."

"Don't be so pessimistic. You liked her even when you were dating that blonde bitch, right?" Clint winced, a bit ashamed of that time. "Well she'll eventually notice and believe me she'll dump that jerk for you." Clint didn't answer. Tony shrugged. "Anyway, don't give up, birdbrain. You'll nail her." He stood up, patted Clint's shoulder and walked away.

Clint stared at him, baffled and annoyed at the same time. It wasn't until the man had left that he realized amusingly that Tony had, actually, never gave him the aforementioned piece of advice.

 

* * *

 

Natasha was bored. Utterly, horribly, out-of-her-skull bored. The movie she and James had gone to see was a predictable, insipid plot filled with testosterone and big muscles - exactly a guy's thing. Usually she enjoyed that sort of mindless stuff, but being there with James was seriously tampering with her mood. She should have accepted Clint's offer, Natasha realized in retrospect. At least she knew she'd have fun… She sighed deeply. Perhaps it was time for James and her to have a talk. Their relationship wasn't the same as when they first dated, and she figured they either needed to seriously work on it, or just give up. Some small – okay, maybe big - part of her hoped for the latter.

"Hey, Nat?"

She suddenly realized said boyfriend was staring at her oddly, and visibly upset.

"You were zoning out again."

Zoning out was his expression for when she just stopped listening to incessant chatter (most of the time, Bobbi's) while pretending to do pay attention. In this case, he was asking if she had followed anything of the movie.

"Nah, just tired," she replied with a small shrug. "You ready to go, then?"

They headed to another coffee place, somewhere with a killer snack bar, where Natasha hoped she could tackle _that_ particular subject fast. James didn't stop babbling about how great the movie was and she let him talk. They were about to enter the snack bar when he suddenly blurted:

"By the way, I invited Bobbi to join us. I figured it wouldn't be a problem."

Natasha didn't even have time to reply; the guy had already pushed the open the door and passed the entrance. Now that was a low blow; weren't they supposed to be together alone? _Never mind_ , she thought angrily. That would just be another little thing to put on her 'list'. The blonde jumped up happily at their sight, and Natasha remembered she hadn't seen much of her either. Strangely, she hadn't missed her at all.

"You haven't been around that much," Bobbi complained the moment they sat down. Natasha shrugged.

"I got a lot going on, sorry."

"Stuff more important that your friends? You didn't even come to Friday night's party!"

"I declined that one three times, you knew I wasn't coming," the redhead replied dryly. Partying wasn't as fun as it had been before, and she really didn't want to miss a rehearsal. She had more fun sweating. Bobbi pouted.

"But we're friends! And I needed you there. Thomas Black wouldn't get off my back!"

"That's because you flirt with him too much," she replied, deadpan, and not a bit sorry for her. Bobbi frowned, and even James stared at her oddly.

"What's going on with you?" the blonde asked. "You've never been this disagreeable before." Natasha snorted. Disagreeable? Really? "That must be because of the time you're spending with those losers. I haven't said anything because _I_ know you are a perfectly respectable girl, but really, stop hanging out with them."

"Will you stop talking about them like that?" Natasha snapped, fed up with her friend's attitude. "What have they done to you?"

The blonde stared at her, surprised.

"Those people will never have a true career, won't be useful to society. Why bother to grant them any attention?" James snorted in what seemed to be agreement. Encouraged by his response, she added: "They should know their place and-"

The last words barely made it out of her mouth. Cold water hit her face in a not so gentle way.

Natasha was, contrary to appearances, a very impulsive person. For her parents' sake, she had learned to master her emotions and impulses and bury them. She couldn't release them so easily in front of her so-called friends, either, and she had swallowed a lot of naughty comments. But insulting the very people who had helped her out when her two "friends" currently sitting in front of her had not bothered wondering whether she had made it home safe after leaving Bobbi's house? Those same people who had quickly welcomed her in their crew in spite of their initial reluctance to let her? That was the last straw.

She couldn't punch Bobbi - although feeling something crack under her hand would have felt good, she knew a glass would catch less attention than a fistfight - so she went to her glass and threw its content to her head. The whole bar fell silent and stared at them as Bobbi shrieked.

"Are you crazy?!" James shouted, hurrying to the blonde's side. Whispers were rising around the trio, and the entire place was staring at her with awe and a little bit of fear. Natasha shrugged.

"Cool down, I didn't hit her."

"My makeup is ruined! I'll tell your mother!"

"Oh, grow up," Natasha snorted and both James and Bobbi glared at her.

Some customers nearby smirked. The rest didn't deem said distraction worth their attention and returned to their chat. Natasha just wanted to laugh at Bobbi's reaction, but James' caught her attention. He usually disagreed with the blonde's choice of words (he didn't care who she called losers, but he had some semblance of a sense of respect, or at least Natasha thought he had) and would laugh the incident off. It was just water, after all. She stared at Bobbi, then James, then back at Bobbi. The way he held her, the way she almost cuddled him…

"You slept together."

James was a virgin when they got together. And Bobbi had been attracted to him from the start. The evidence hit her so hard she wondered how come she had missed this before. Hadn't he said, "C'mon, darling, you must be the only one in the whole high school who hasn't gotten any?" not too long ago? It was so obvious, Natasha suddenly realized. The way James stuck with Bobbi when they argued, the way he'd look at her sometimes, the sneaking glances and brushes she caught… Bobbi's odd references to the boxing world and James' sudden, strange knowledge of nail and shoes suddenly made sense. When neither denied, Natasha knew she was right.

"Figures," she muttered, shaking her head. It hurt her, of course, but not as much as she thought it would've.

"Nat," James started, "I'm –"

"Save it," Natasha replied, coolly cutting him off. She rose from her seat and left enough money to pay her drink. James immediately left Bobbi's side and followed her.

"I'm sorry, Nat, I truly am!" he said. "It was just a fling, it meant nothing I swear!"

The redhead ignored him and headed towards the exit. People were watching them, loving the drama of it all, but she ignored them.

"That's not what you told me!" Bobbi huffed indignantly.

"You shut up!" James hissed at her, narrowing his eyes. Part of Natasha wanted to explode in anger, but the other just wanted to laugh. She never truly loved – or even liked - James. He was just… convenient, she realized.

"Whatever," The redhead muttered and put her hand on the door.

She was caught off guard when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

His face was torn apart by fury and anguish and his grip strong, but she didn't flinch.

"You are not leaving me!" he howled. A customer in the back started rising. The barista was eyeing them carefully. Natasha didn't hesitate: in one swift motion, she twisted her wrist and brought her knuckles down on the inside of James' wrist. "OW! Fu-" his grip was knocked loose and she gave him a harsh slap for good measure. Natasha was suddenly glad for those self-defense classes her parents made her take.

"Don't come after me, Barnes," she growled under the alternately approving and wincing stares of the other customers, and Bobbi's horrified one. Natasha pushed the door opened and walked out of the snack bar, finally feeling free…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :)

7.

 

In spite of Clint’s phone not answering, Natasha decided to drop by the warehouse.  She walked down there –it took her barely an hour, and when no-one answered, entered the opened house.  Since no-one seemed in sight, the redhead figured she might as well finish what she had started this morning and practice a little more.

The dance room was empty when she entered, but very faint strains of music could be heard.  At first, Natasha thought someone had put on the radio, but soon enough she realized it wasn’t a broadcast song.  Somewhere in a backroom, someone was singing. And it was beautiful.

She walked through the room, guided by the sound, and noticed a door she hadn’t paid attention to before.  Hoping she wouldn’t disturb anyone, Natasha pushed it slightly open and peeked inside.  She saw Coulson and a familiar-looking guy dressed in an Iron Maiden tee standing in front of a large panel of buttons and switches, both staring at a window.  The singer was obviously on the other side, and the redhead suddenly wondered if the dance studio was also a recording room.  It would make sense, she thought, after all, ‘Fury’ was the headmaster of a school for the creative arts. And come to think of it, Clint also mentioned he took care of singers…

“Come in or get out but don’t stay in between please.”

Natasha jumped at the sound of Coulson’s voice.  He didn’t turn around, but the familiar-looking man did.

“Oh, now ain’t that a great surprise,” he said with a huge grin. “Birdbrain’s girlfriend’s here!”

“Stark,” Coulson called out, disapproval dripping off his tone.

The dark-haired man shrugged innocently and redirected his attention on the singer.  Natasha took it as her cue to move and entered.  As she suspected, the entire place looked like one of those studios she saw on TV, with big machines and switches and touches and small lights…essentially, an impressive place.  She glanced up to take a look at the singer behind the window, whose back was turned to them with huge headphones on his – no, _her_ head, Natasha realized as she recognized Maria.

Her voice was deep and powerful, not quite able to rise into a soprano but Natasha’s jaw still dropped in amazement.  She was _amazing_.

“I thought you had a date, if I may,” Coulson said when she arrived next to him.  The redhead shrugged.

“I don’t need a boyfriend who cheats on me,” she muttered.  His face remained blank, but she thought she saw a small wince in his expression…

“If you’re looking for Clint, he’s gone for the afternoon,” he added.  Natasha frowned, wondering why he’d assume she came looking for him.  Then she realized they had been spending a fair amount of time together…

“I was actually wondering if I could train a bit.”

The man nodded and turned around.

“I’ll show you a couple of things before. Stark, don’t keep her too long in there.”

The other man waved at him nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry Agent, she’s almost done.”

“Mom’s not just good, she’s great!” a little voice piped up.  Too fascinated with Maria’s work, the redhead hadn’t noticed the little figure sitting on a chair in the back of the room.  Gillian looked up at Coulson and added: “Whaddaya think, dad?”

Both Stark’s and Natasha’s head snapped in the other man’s direction.  The former bore an almost comically shocked expression, while Natasha wondered if the almost thirty-year-old man was truly Gillian’s father.  Unless she had miscalculated, Maria was about their age, or a year or two older, and Coulson didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d sleep with a teenager.  Then again, Natasha hadn’t seen anyone around the house that could be Maria’s boyfriend.  She made a mental note to ask Clint later.

“I think you are spending too much time with Clint, Lily,” the man replied sternly, face impassive. “Don’t mimic him, will you? And Stark, shut up.”

“Wasn’t going to say anything!” the man replied, although his eyes were clearly questioning.

Coulson rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, motioning to Natasha to follow him.  He led her to a drawer nearby and pulled out a video recorder.

“That’s if you need to watch what we did this week. Music is there if you need it…” he pointed another drawer. “But I think you know the place enough to manage on your own.”

Natasha thanked him absentmindedly.  A question was burning on her tongue and it took her a couple of seconds to gather the guts to ask:

“Coulson, it’s probably none of my business, but…”

“If this is about Lily, then yes it isn’t your business,” Coulson cut dryly. “She just calls me that sometimes because Clint does too and I take care of her a lot, so she gets confused.”

Natasha nodded in understanding.  She was a curious person by nature, but would have left it there out of respect for both Maria and Coulson if he hadn’t added:

“I just want to make things clear.  Lily’s biological father passed away, so please don’t bring up the subject.  It’s difficult enough for everyone, _especially_ Maria.”

There was something in Phil’s eyes when he pronounced her name that caught Natasha’s attention.  His eyes had hardened, as if angry, and his fingers twisted in a way that reminded her of someone wanting to punch something.  Protectiveness, she recognized.  Whatever had happened back then must have been bad…  Now her radar was flashing for more, but before she had the chance to dig deeper, Coulson turned around and darted away back to the recording room.  She figured that was another thing she’d probably ask Clint, and hoped he could (or would) provide answers…

 

* * *

 

“So I heard she dumped him.”

Clint gave Stark a dirty look.

“I have no idea what yer talkin’ ‘bout and I’m in the middle of an essay I gotta give back t’morrow. So either you explain or you shut up.”

They were in the living room with Rhodey and Jasper – Bruce had returned to his aunt’s place for the next few days - doing homework under Pepper’s surveillance.  The woman tended to join the warehouse after a long day; the building was closer to her job than her own place.  Phil usually didn’t charge her, but she helped out in any way she could when she stayed over.  And since Pepper was here, Stark had come to tag along and banter with her.  Thankfully they were used to it and most of the time managed to tune them out.  Except when Tony decided to pester _them_ ; then there was no peace until his victim answered.

“The li’l redhead. She dumped her boyfriend. She’s free now; you didn’t know?” he asked at Clint’s surprised face.

“I…” he started, well aware that the full room was watching, all with varying degrees of subtlety. “It’s none of my business.”

Stark’s eyes flared.

“’Course it is! You want the girl; she’s free, go after her!”

Clint’s glare intensified.

“Are ya crazy? She’ll kick my balls if I try t’make a move on her.”

“It works for me.”

“It _is_ better to wait Tony,” Pepper interjected. “Clint isn’t you. Thankfully.”

“Thanks, Pep,” the blonde replied sarcastically. Stark sulked, then called out:

“Hey Maria, what would you do?”

The brunette, who had just entered, stared at them confused.

“About what?”

“Natasha’s single again,” Stark explained, ignoring the furious glare Clint was giving him. “We’re trying to convince birdbrain to just go for it.”

“YOU are trying to convince him,” Pepper scowled, but turned around to listen to the other girl’s answer.  Maria shrugged.

“I suck at romantic advice.”

“Still, you gotta have an opinion,” Stark insisted.

She turned around to snap, but then she met Clint’s hopeful, puppy-dog eyes, and sighed.

“If you think making a move now is wrong, then it’s wrong.  If you think you can jump her, go ahead.  Seriously, Clint, you wanna get her to like you?  Just be your damn annoying usual self.”

“Damn right,” Pepper replied with a smirk, and both women fist bumped.  Clint looked outraged.

“I hate you all.” He muttered, returning to his essay, something about _The Scarlet Letter_.

Natasha was single.   _That_ was great news, but it didn’t change a thing.  She saw him as a friend – which was a good start – but not much more.  They had only really known each other well for a week or so – technically, _he_ had known her for a while – and the more time he spent with her, the more he _liked_ her.  He wouldn’t have made out with her that time if…

Clint pushed those memories aside; he needed to concentrate. Back to _The Scarlet Letter_.  His mind drifted to the word _scarlet_ , which brought him to _red_ , then from _red_ to Natasha’s _hair_ and her hair from how _soft_ they…

Clint sighed. Now he couldn’t concentrate anymore.

“’m going to the grocery store,” He announced.  Maybe a walk would do him good, and the sodas were running out. “You guys need anythin’?”

“Cheerios,” Maria replied before the words were fully out of his mouth. “And we’ll be out of milk soon.”

“If you find a DJ Chicago CD on sale, take it,” Rhodey added.

“Post-its, blue or green if possible,” Jasper said. “And a notebook.  And eggs.” Everyone turned towards him. “What? French toast is awesome!”

“Need a pin-up poster while I’m at it?” Clint muttered, ignoring the interested glance from Stark. “Be back in thirty.”

He picked up the usual grocery-backpack and headed out.  The closest convenience store was two blocks away, but he didn’t have much to buy.  Darkness has fallen an hour ago, but he didn’t mind.  On the contrary, the scent of grass and wild flowers was calming, and the quiet gave his abused ears a break – the guys didn’t know what ‘silence’ meant.  Clint let it surround him and allowed his mind to wander and think of nothing.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little hawk.”

Clint stiffened.  His peaceful moment was shattered as a potent mix of fear and anxiety rose within him, and he had to clench his hands to stop them from trembling.  He would recognize that voice anywhere, that insolent, threatening tone of the man he used to follow.  He took a deep breath, turned around, and glared at the colossus standing right behind him with crossed arms and a naughty smirk.

“What the fuck you want, Thanos?”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of angst here…okay maybe a lot-ish. Rape is strongly suggested (not named though), I hope it won’t…uh…bother.

**8.**

 

Clint was acting oddly, Natasha thought.  Actually, he was always acting oddly, but today?  This wasn’t him.  His smile, his cheerfulness was forced.  He would easily get distracted or lost in thoughts and lose focus during training.  And on top of it, he called her ‘Natasha’.  Not ‘sweetheart’, not ‘Nat’ or ‘Tasha’, but her full name.  She tried to pin it on some mood swing; a temporary state of mind.  But it lasted the whole Sunday morning and even the others were worrying – although she had no idea if they knew what was going on - so she decided to take action.

Right before lunch, after Maria set them free, she grabbed his arm and ordered sternly, “ _You_ , mister, are coming with me.”

Clint stared at her in surprise, but didn’t protest as she dragged him out.  Natasha could feel the others’ gaze follow them as they walked out of the room but didn’t turn back.  She wanted to make it clear whatever would happen would only happen between him and her.  They walked in silence to a park nearby and she led him to a secluded corner.  He smirked at her as she ordered him to sit.

“If you wanted to have me alone, you coulda just asked. My room’s isolated and quiet enough.”

The thought of Clint putting his hands on her made her blush a little.  She crossed her arms to chase away the unease – some small part of her brain reacted too much to his words – and said:

“What’s going on?  You’ve been off your game all morning.”

He shrugged.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t.  I’m not going to make a list of all the little things that ticked me this morning, because I can’t even _count_ them all, so please just spill the beans now.”

“Really Natasha,” Again with the full name. “it’s nothing.”

The falsely nonchalant tone made her just even more determined.  Natasha stared at him hard and told him, “I’ll find out eventually, Clint.  I’m good at finding things out.  Look, I just want to help you…!”

He looked at her, _really_ looked at her, and bit his lower lip.  Whatever he would come up with next, Natasha knew would be important.

“Would you hate me, if I told you I am a murderer?”

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take Phil long to find Maria.  She was in her bedroom, sitting on her bed and staring out of the window.  She always did when she was upset; it was a safe, private place and she felt secure.  He was always a little in awe of the fact that she let him in to her personal haven.

“He’s going to tell her, isn’t he?”

Maria hadn’t turned around, but he could picture her blank, unreadable face.

“He’ll probably just give her hints, but Natasha’s smart enough to get the whole picture.  She’s not Morse; she won’t take advantage of it.”

“How do you know?”

“Clint trusts her.  He has good instincts.”

“He trusted that bitch, too.”

Coulson snorted.

“Actually, he didn’t.  Morse found out by accident.  And, she never once saw the inside of his room.”

Maria snorted in turn.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“The only times they slept together were at her place,” Coulson added, dead serious. “I found out when I caught him stealing condoms from Jasper.”

“ _That_ is a mental picture I really don’t need,” she replied, but the man could hear the hint of a smile in her tone.  She turned around to face him, and he took it as an invitation to sit on her bed. “I just don’t want a repeat of last year.”

“You seemed more worried about what Natasha could do than Thanos’ threat.”

Maria huffed indignantly.

“I kicked that guy’s ass once; I can do it twice.” Her expression darkened. “If she can’t accept Clint’s story and blurts it to someone, it’ll be easier to leave town.”

“I know.” He put his arm around her shoulder and met her gaze.  A steady, determined gaze that reassured him somehow; it took a lot more than this to break her.  That was something he would always admire with her. “If it happens, we’ll deal with this.  In the meantime, Lily’s wondering where her mom has gone.”

The brunette put her hand over his and squeezed it gently.  She allowed a small, almost-hopeful smile to grow over her lips, and then stood up to join her daughter.  Phil watched her leave, truly hoping Clint had made the right choice.

 

* * *

 

 

“A murderer?” Natasha repeated, taken aback.  Clint smiled bitterly and stared at some spot on the ground.  She sat next to him, unwilling to leave unless she had the full story.  She couldn’t believe the Clint she knew capable of killing anyone.  One of these days, she thought, her curiosity would bite her in the ass. “What happened?”

Clint was tense.  His jaw was tight and his fists white from squeezing.  Natasha suddenly felt guilty; maybe she shouldn’t have asked after all.  Maybe some things were better left untold.  She was a private person herself, she understood.

“If you don’t want to tell me…” she started, but he interrupted her abruptly.

“No it’s fine. If you’re going to hang around, it’s better if you know.  I don’t want you to hear it from …someone else.” His voice was barely a whisper; his eyes were narrowed in concentration.  He suddenly grabbed her hand and stared at her with such intensity it made her shiver. “You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.  I mean, I’m cleared but there aren’t many people who know about it.  I don’ want my fam’ly’s life t’turn into hell b‘cause of me.”

Natasha nodded her promise and waited.  He released his grip on her and leaned back forwards, elbows on his knees.  Perhaps to avoid her gaze, perhaps to concentrate, she couldn’t tell.

“I had an older brother, ’s name was Barney.  He an’ I lost our parents in a car accident; I was just five or six, can’t remember exactly.  They shipped us to an orphanage.  We stayed two years there b’fore Barney got fed up and ran ’way.  I followed him an’ believe it or not, we ended up in the circus.” Natasha raised an eyebrow and Clint chuckled. “Swear on my honor, or whatever’s left of it.  T’make it short, I got an act while he was left to clean cages.”

“You got an act?” Natasha interrupted, her eyes widening in surprise – and distracting her momentarily. “What was it?”

He smirked slightly.

“I was the Amazing Hawkeye. Never missed a target, just like William Tell.”

She hummed in suspicion.

“Hawkeye, isn’t that your dance nickname or something?”

“Sure,” he replied with a shrug. “When Phil asked ‘bout another nickname, that’s the only one I could come up with.”

“Would you show me sometime?  How good you are?” she added with a challenging smirk.

Clint’s smirk fell, and he shrugged.

“Maybe.” He remained quiet almost a full minute before continuing the story. “So anyway, _that_ new job didn’t suit him at all.  He got associated with some other guy and started t’do some burglary.  ‘t was small stuff, till we came to _that_ town.” He swallowed hard, obviously not wanting to remember that part. “One night I saw him sneaking out, so I followed him.  Took my bow an’ everything, just in case. When he got into that house, I knew I shoulda called the cops, but I couldn’t.  I thought I’d wait for him outside till he was done.  I wasn’t stupid, I didn’t want to hang around too long either; so when he didn’t come back after twenty, I went after him. Found him…”

His voice broke, his eyes narrowed, his fists clenched and even she could recognize the first stages of a panic attack.

“Clint if you don’t…”

“No!” he hissed. “I want you to know! The house was too damn quiet an’ I went upstairs…” Clint swallowed and she saw a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down and went on. “That fucker was up there, with a fucking _kid_!  And she was…he had her mouth covered with tape so she couldn’t scream so I didn’t… I didn’t think.  I took my bow and… like I said, I never miss.  Wish I had that night.”

His shoulders were shaking with anger and Natasha didn’t know what to think.  Was he basically confessing having murdering his brother?  She forced herself to remain calm and listen to what he had to say next.

“I should have gone in earlier.  I could have stopped him from…” he took a deep breath and shut his eyes. “The cops came and it got ugly.  The circus left without me and I was placed in some special institute.  A guy nicknamed Thanos contacted me there. He was the leader of another crew, the Chitrauris.  They got banned from the Street a while ago ’cause they were into dealing but…” he shook his head. “Anyway, that guy heard about me, ‘bout what I’ve done.  He hired me to do some dirty work, which I did ‘cause I had nowhere t’go.  Got stuck in there a full year before Phil found me an’ managed t’save my ass before it was too late.  Couldn’t get rid of Thanos for a while but Phil put the cops on his ass so he backed off.   I wasn’t high enough in the hierarchy for him t’bother that much, but apparently he had plans for me.  Don’t wanna find out what they were.”

He paused, long enough for Natasha to gather her thoughts.  To say she wasn’t freaking out would be a lie; she had would have never expected him to have such a heavy background.  Okay, he was an orphan. He had joined the circus, fine.  His brother had been a thief and rapist.  Not Clint’s fault, she reminded herself.  Clint had shot his brother.  His fault, but given the circumstances… Natasha didn’t want to dwell on that right now.  And then another crew, one that dealt with bad stuff, according to him.  Well, Maria did warn her that not all crews were like SHIELD.  And if he had already dealt with the police force, then Clint was cleared.  Somehow.  She nearly missed the moment he spoke again.

“Yesterday evening, Thanos came to talk to me.” Natasha stiffened; no wonder why he had been so tense. “He wanted me back. I told him to go fuck himself.” Another bitter smile. “He… didn’t take it kindly, shall we say.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“Not really,” Clint replied with a shrug. “Just said he’d break me.” Natasha frowned; that wasn’t a threat? “But it’s just bluff; if he actually tries anything, he’ll be screwed.  He knows he’s bein’ watched.”

He stopped talking, eyes back on that spot on the ground.  He was waiting, she realized; waiting for her judgment.  Natasha didn’t know what to do.  She just knew she couldn’t leave him now.  She couldn’t bring herself to.

“You know what?” she blurted, “Let’s go to the Helicarrier tonight.”

Clint’s head snapped up and he stared at her, dumbfounded.

“What?”

“The Helicarrier, the place we went to the first time,” She reminded him, forcing a smile on her face. “You need a distraction because I am _not_ going to stand here and watch you mope around.”

He stood there, carefully observing her.  His expression was suspicious, like he couldn’t believe her.

“You’re not scared?”

She shrugged to suppress the shiver running through her spine.

“I won’t lie; I’m tempted to run.  But, we’re friends right?  Friends don’t run out on each other.” She hesitated, then added softly: “I’ll probably never know everyone’s background, but I do know you guys have been great with me.  You did more in a week than Bobbi and James did in years.  If I can’t stand my ground and back you up, then I don’t deserve to stay.”

Something flashed in his eyes, something deep that let her know she had said the right thing.  Another shiver ran through her spine, but for a different reason.  She didn’t manage to avoid his bone-crushing hug.  Arms wrapped around her waist, hands clenched the back of her shirt and his face buried in his neck.  His trembling, though subtle, was the only reason why she didn’t push him away.

“Thank you,” He whispered so quietly Natasha almost missed it. “You have no idea…”

His sentence never ended but it didn’t need to.  Somehow, she understood.  Slowly, she raised her arms and hugged him back.  Her hand drew gentle circles on his back.  She felt some tension leave his body as he relaxed.  While he was the one seeking comfort, Natasha couldn’t help but feel… _safe_ in his embrace.  She closed her eyes momentarily and breathed in.  Her fingers were running over firm muscles, her chest squashed against his firm, muscled one.  She smelled his scent, something like spice and another unique thing that belonged to him.  Since when had she become so aware of him?

“You’re okay?”

His voice brought her back to reality.  Something was wrong with her.  After him telling him such heavy stuff, all she could think of was how she could alleviate his pain.  She had known him for a goddamn week.  She couldn’t be falling for him.  Could she?

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, two updates the same day because I actually forgot to post the previous one last week ^^"   
> The song is 'High on Your Love' from Sharon Doorson.   
> Enjoy :)

9.

 

Jasper skillfully grabbed the three glasses that had been ordered and headed towards the table where his crew had settled.  The crowded room made his journey difficult, but his specialty was equilibrium. Which was probably the reason why his mates had sent him on drink duty.

“There you go!” he announced once he reached the table.  Bruce stood to help him and pass the drinks.  Mostly beers, so they wouldn’t offend Pepper, who always rolled her eyes at them drinking underage, especially so early in the evening.  Thor and his girlfriend Jane had joined them tonight, as well as Thor’s friends Victor, Hector and Flor, also known as the Warriors Three.  Unusually, Coulson was there too.  Maria was late and they were expecting Tony to show up at some point.  Tonight, a guy named Hammer had replaced him behind the turntables.  He was alright, but not as good as their Iron Man.  It still didn’t stop people from coming and dancing like there was no tomorrow.

“Took you long enough!” Flor protested as he grasped his Heineken and slid Hector’s Red Bull down to him. “I thought I’d die of thirst.”

“Shut up, Fandrall,” Jasper replied dryly. “You’re up next time.”

Rhodey and Victor smirked and Flor took a generous sip of his drink. 

“So I heard the competition was cancelled and the real thing reported to next month?” he asked, slamming his glass on the table. Phil nodded.

“Stark told me he found a huge place, but it wouldn’t be free till then.  Apparently there were too many crews begging for a battle, so pre-selections had to happen elsewhere.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the latest fusion between Chitauris and Hydra, does it?” Jane asked, sounding worried. “I heard Thanos was getting friendly with the wrong people.”

Phil’s lips thinned in annoyance.

“Most crews don’t want them in the Street to start with, so as long as they lay low there shouldn’t be anything to be worried about,” he concluded. “Which brings me to my next question,” he added, turning towards Thor. “Will your crew be competing with or against us?”

The blond man grinned.                                                

“With you, of course! I shall bring the Asgardians to the warehouse starting next week. Be assured our crew is more than willing to join Shield.”

The boys cheered together, finished their drinks with a last giant swig and slammed their glasses down on the table with a loud ‘ANOTHER!’, a tradition picked up from Thor.  From the bar, Pepper rolled her eyes.  Flor suddenly spoke up:

“I shall bother you no more.” His eyes followed a pretty blonde across the room.  He stood up elegantly and ran a hand through his hair. “Gentlemen, I am deeply sorry but I shall take my leave.”

Victor and Hector exchanged knowing glances as the third member of their group left.

“Our friend has found his prey for tonight.”

“Shall we take our leave as well?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes and Jasper smirked while Thor grinned, amused.  The two remaining Warriors Three left their table with a last salute to settle on another, better place for observation.  Jane’s cell rang – how she heard it over then noise, they’d never know – and momentarily headed outside after giving her boyfriend a quick kiss.  Phil checked his own phone mournfully and took another sip of his drink.  It was painfully obvious to the others that he was expecting someone’s call.  Perhaps the cellist he had met at Fury’s the other day, Jasper reflected.

“Why are we the only single ones? I’d kill to have a girlfriend,” he suddenly said, faking a depressed state. Bruce shrugged indifferently.

“I’m not upset. I’ve got science.”

“That’s not a real person,” Rhodey remarked with a raised eyebrow. “Unless you’re thinking of Betty Ross?”

“Who’s that?” Jasper asked immediately.

“His lab partner,” Rhodey replied with an all-knowing smirk.  Bruce’s ears turned pink.

“Bruce, you sneaky-“

“Oh, shut up,” Bruce muttered, suddenly very interested in his beer.

“Whatever,” Jasper sighed. “But don’t you guys miss it?  I mean, look at our resident hawk,” he added, nodding towards Clint and Natasha, who were on the dance floor, dancing daringly close to each other.  “I bet you they’ll be together pretty soon.”

“By the look of it, I’d say sometime next week,” Bruce said absentmindedly.

“She just left her boyfriend.  I’d give her another month or so,” Rhodey said.

“You overestimate her attachment to her ex,” Phil commented out of the blue, surprising everyone by his sudden input. “She didn’t seem too upset over their breakup.”

Bruce, Rhodey and Jasper stared at him with eyes wide open.   It amused the older man how gossipy the teenagers could be; especially when it concerned one of their own.

“She came back during Maria’s rehearsal last Sunday; that’s how Stark knew about it. He had already witnessed how… _enthusiastic_ she seemed to leave Clint.” Phil shrugged. “I’d bet before the weekend.” It was Wednesday.

“If they don’t already hook up tonight,” a new, breathless voice interrupted.  The table’s occupants turned around and spotted Maria in her work attire, dropping a bag next to Phil’s seat.  The man’s face seemed to brighten up a little.

“Hey, I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it!” Rhodey said, shifting his chair so she had enough room.  Maria let herself fall on the seat and sighed deeply.

“Fury kept me an extra hour; he had a lot of stuff going on.”

The boys raised their eyebrows in curiosity.  Bruce blurted as Phil spoke:

“The mighty eyepatch kept you an extra hour?”

“What’s going on?”

The young woman sighed deeply and stole a sip of Coulson’s martini.  When she put down the glass with a little more strength than necessary, everyone knew Fury had something planned out.

“Peter Parker’s finally out of the hospital,” she announced, and her comrades smiled in relief. “But since Wade’s still in the mental institution for his last stunt, Fury handpicked another kid for his next single.”

“Clint’s going to be relieved,” Rhodey said. “He was afraid Fury would try to pair him with Parker. Shame, really, he’s got a goddamn good voice. Why weren’t _you_ chosen by the way?”

Maria frowned at him.  “I’m already working with Stark; that’s more than enough.  And our voices don’t sync.  The new guy’s good enough; he just needs some workout.”

“So will you welcome another comrade in the troop?” Thor inquired happily.  Maria snorted.

“I doubt it.  His body is nowhere near strong enough to stand our training.”

“Well, well,” Jasper said, raising his glass slightly. “What’s the guy’s name anyway? We know him?”

The corner of Maria’s lips tugged upwards.  “Oh, yeah.  Fury’s hiring Steve Rogers.”

 

* * *

 

 

In spite of their earlier conversation, Natasha found it rather easy to stick at Clint’s side.  He hadn’t strayed from his usual behavior, although he did seem relieved that she hadn’t run out on him.  He actually hadn’t left her side from all afternoon, sometimes watching her warily when he thought she wasn’t looking.  Actually, she was surprised how easily she accepted this tale and accepted _him_.  Perhaps she knew deep down he would never harm her, at least intentionally.  And she really _didn’t_ want to leave the crew.

When they returned, she noticed Maria and Phil’s side glances.  But Clint’s attitude seemed to put them at ease, and when they had all headed for the Helicarrier that night, Natasha knew no questions would be asked about her decision.  It felt odd, to know that people wouldn’t judge her if one them did; and quite a nice change.  It gave her every reason not to betray the small trust they put in her.

The DJ tonight wasn’t Tony; she realized it immediately when typical radio dancefloor songs played instead of the original R&B remixes from Iron Man (she did a little research and was impressed with what she heard.  Not that she’d tell the man anyway; his head was big enough as it was). 

“C’mon, dance with me!” Clint urged with that puppy look that made it very had to refuse him anything.  Natasha rolled her eyes but took his hand and let him pull her into the mass of dancing people while the rest of the crew had gone in search of a table.  The platform was dense, so their bodies were close, almost touching.  It took her a little more time to get into the mood; she was used to Tony’s R&B.  But the music gave out energy and soon enough she let herself go.

 

_You beat my drum, drum, drum_

_And it’s dynamite_

_You beat my drum, drum, drum_

_And it feels so right_

 

When she swung her hips to the rhythm of the music, Clint followed suit, putting in no effort to keep a reasonable distance between them.  Whenever she moved, he wasn’t far behind, copying, trying to anticipate and dominate her.  They circled around each other for a while, before Clint managed to slip behind her and brush her hip with a smooth gesture of his hand.  Natasha unconsciously tilted her hip to follow it, until he completely grabbed her side and pulled her backwards. Her back hit his chest, still in motion, and she allowed him to take control.  Her arm slipped backwards around his neck as he nuzzled her cheek.  Her other hand settled over one of his while they travelled up and down her sides, down to her thigh.  His hips undulated with hers as both bodies seemed to melt into each other and move at once in an odd kind of dirty dancing.

 

_You’ll take me high, high, high_

_Like a paper kite_

_Up in the sky, sky, sky_

_On a starry night_

 

Natasha should have seen the signs, but she was too busy moving in sync, losing herself in the music and appreciating the strong chest holding her.  As she got caught in the rhythm, she didn’t push Clint away when his lips brushed her ear, merely tilted her head on the side to give him more access.  The touch of his mouth against her skin made her shiver and arch against him.  One hand stilled over her stomach while the other moved north and stopped right under her breasts.  A really warm wave spread in her stomach and this time Natasha couldn’t bite back a soft moan.

 

_Tonight, you’re gonna save my world_

_Baby it’s there tonight_

_You’re gonna light my world_

 

Out of the blue, he turned her back to face him and his lips were pressing against hers.  It should have freaked her out, should have triggered ringing bells, should have - this was _wrong_ , this was too fast, this was _Clint_ -

 

_I’m getting high on your love,_

_I’m getting high on your love,_

 

His mouth was soft, gentle; much gentler than she had imagined.  His eyes were halfway closed, ocean blue, and green and golden, and just so mesmerizing.  Before she realized what she was doing, her arms moved on their own, wrapped around his neck, pulled him closer.  His body felt strong, a result of the hard work he put it through.  Just like in the park, he smelled like sweat, spice and something just _him_. He coaxed her mouth open and slid his tongue in.  She hated when James did that; it made her uncomfortable.  But this was different, this was Clint, and Clint apparently liked to take his sweet time with her.  One hand settled on her lower hips, caressed her up and down, dangerously flirting with the skin revealed between her top and her trousers.  The other got buried in her hair as he kept on kissing her.

_I’m getting high on your love,_

_I’m getting high on your love,_

She liked the way he felt.  Liked the way he tasted.  Liked the way he handled her.  She liked it all too well, which was why when they pulled apart for air and she came back to her sense, realization hit her hard.  Clint looked at her with darkness in his eyes, his lips slightly swollen and his breath heavy.  Her heartbeat escalated in panic and she took a step back.  Hurt crossed his face but this time she couldn’t stay.  So she turned around, cut through the crowd and headed outside. 

 

* * *

 

 

In spite of what they thought, he had been watching.  In a corner of a room, Thomas Nargles, alias Thanos, kept a steady stare on Clint and his girlfriend.  Next to him, his second-in-command Schmidt took a large gulp of his drink and glared at the couple.

“He acts like he never belonged to us,” The man snorted. “He moves like he’s not scared of us. Even Loki was nervous when you went to him. Why isn’t _he_?”

The colossus didn’t answer.  He merely took his own drink and raised it to his lips.

“He feels secure because he’s surrounded.  The Chitauris never meant a thing to him, and neither will Hydra.”

“You told me you’d get him back.  A guy who never misses would be useful in our crew.  And even if he doesn’t join, he should know not to act like he isn’t afraid.  Other defectors might get ideas.”

“I am closely followed by the police, Schmidt.  I cannot act in the open air,” Thanos replied calmly. “But do not worry; it’s a matter of opportunity.” 

They watched as Barton turned the redhead around and kiss her, then saw said redhead take a step back and leave.  Thanos grinned and made a vague motion of the hand.  Two henchmen, who had been waiting behind the duo, stood up and walked up to him.  He made another move and the two men headed outside in turn.

“This, my friend,” Thanos said, taking another lazy sip, “Is what I mean.”

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait…Shouldn't happen again. Clintasha in the end of the chapter, just because. Oh, and Steve arrives next chapter! (I know, took him long enough....)

**10.**

 

For the umpteenth time, Clint cursed himself. Since Natasha had departed from the dance floor, he had taken up residence at the bar and ordered some vodka to get over his stupidity. He had kissed her. He had kissed her while they were dancing. If that wasn't the stupidest move he had ever made… Sure, he had been pining over her for a while, but it didn't mean _she_ liked him that way. Still, feeling her body move against him and she letting him nuzzle her neck had been too much and he hadn't resisted to the calling of those gorgeous lips and…

And she had kissed back.

_That_ lovely little detail kept replaying over and over his head. She had kissed him back. Whether she was caught in the moment or had truly wanted it, he couldn't get the fact out of his mind. If he closed his eyes, he could remember the softness of her mouth, the smooth skin under his fingers, the light press of her breasts against his chest. If things were up to him, he would have dragged her in a corner and kept kissing her all night. Maybe touch her, if she had allowed him.

Clint snorted into his glass. Even if she had responded to him, she wouldn't have allowed him more. Natasha was someone hated jumping in the unknown. Kissing her was catching her off guard, so it shouldn't surprise him she had taken off. In that regard, she was a lot like Bruce, evaluating the situation before reacting. He'd have to apologize to her later. He just hoped he hadn't broken the fragile friendship they had built up to now.

His thoughts were interrupted by Maria's arrival. She poked his shoulder to get his attention and asked very calmly, "Where is Natasha?"

Clint shrugged. "She went out. Guess she wanted to get some air."

Much to his surprise, Maria tensed. Her mouth thinned into a hard line and her eyes narrowed in what he supposed was anger.

"Thanos is here," she spat tersely. Clint's blood froze.

"I thought Tony had put a _persona non grata_ on him at the Heli."

"Hammer is buddy-buddy with Hydra, remember? And he'd do anything to piss Stark off," Maria replied, practically seething. "I sent Bruce and Thor to check on the guys outside. You scan the crowd. If she didn't leave, catch her before she does. I'll check the restrooms."

The brunette darted upon those words, leaving Clint dumbfounded. Thanos was here. Thanos was here and Natasha probably missing. The idle threat he had thrown at Clint didn't look so idle anymore. The young man pushed away the subtle, increasing fear and started searching for a splash of red hair.

If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

 

* * *

 

It was pure dumb luck that Tony Stark walked by that alley, a little hop in his walk as he approached his favorite nightclub.

That night, he hadn't planned to go at the Helicarrier. His CEO had encountered a problem he needed to take care of himself – Stark Industries was a big company after all, and he had, on a sort of whim, decided to open a branch on clean energy. The meeting was supposed to last hours. Thankfully, they had solved the problem faster than expected (just a technical defect even a newbie could have worked out). Since the clock hadn't hit ten PM yet, he had decided to make a detour on his way home and properly greet Pepper, his not-girlfriend (but if he had his ways, soon to be).

At first, Tony thought the shadows moving in the dark were lovers having fun, but soon enough he realized their gestures were too brusque. He approached soundless –or as soundlessly he could be –and checked the situation closer. Stark was surprised to recognize the birdbrain's girlfriend, fighting her way out of a particularly delicate situation.

"Get the _hell_ o-!"

Two guys were towering over her, one covering her mouth with his hand and the other holding her wrists. Natasha was defending herself okay, Tony thought. She would wriggle out of their grip, spin around using her flexibility and near-gymnastic skills and try to hit her assailants in the right places. But as good as she was, she was still a thin teenager against two burly men. Stark was no fighter like birdbrain, Rhodey or Thor. He had no specific skills like that redhead girl. He was a showoff but no coward either.

He took a step forwards and shouted loud, hoping someone in the neighborhood would hear him.

"Hey, bozos! Why don't you hit on someone your own size?"

As he expected, the two guys stopped paying attention to the girl and turned towards him. "What, you jealous?" one of the thugs asked, leering at him.

Plan A succeeded, Tony thought. What came next again?

"Not at all, but given the fact you guys are using brute force against a frail little damsel," he didn't miss the glare Natasha sent him, "I'd rather not just sit around and wait till you're done. I mean, _hello_ , I thought people like you would grow a brain one day."

One of the thugs dropped the girl and walked closer to him. Had Tony had any sense of self-preservation, he would have turned tail and gotten the hell out of dodge. But if he ran, birdbrain's girlfriend would be left alone and those guys looked like they would crack her head open without remorse the moment he turned away.

"Tony!"

A huge feeling of relief washed over him as he recognized Bruce's voice, quickly followed by Thor's heavy footsteps. A quick glance over his shoulder told him they looked quite pissed. The two thugs glanced at each other before taking off, leaving their target behind. Understandable, Stark thought sarcastically. Thor was not a guy you'd want to mess with, and Bruce, in spite of his frail appearance, hid considerable strength when angry. He hadn't seen them in action first-hand, but he'd heard the rumors. On second thought, perhaps he would have rather have the two thugs hang around, just for entertainment's sake.

Tony pushed those thoughts away and walked towards Natasha. She was wobbling but leaning against the wall to stabilize herself. The girl didn't look to be in shock, per se, but not perfectly fine either.

"You okay, kid?"

The young woman's shirt was ripped at the sleeves, the side of her face reddish from what looked to be a slap. Her jeans looked intact, so Stark assumed the two guys weren't after her in that way.

"I'm not a frail little damsel," she muttered in return, eyes narrowed and angry. Well, at least she was still kicking, he thought sarcastically. Perhaps it was her coping mechanism. Given the large bruises on her forearms and the way she favored her left leg, they must have done a number on her. _Were they trying to scare her?_ He wondered. As far as he knew, Natasha had no ties with any people from the underground. The worst association she could possibly have would be the cre-

Stark blinked, absorbing the new piece of information. The crew. Of course. Natasha and birdbrain were getting tight and some people – namely a certain creep named Thanos – had a little thing against him.

"Tasha!"

Speak of the devil. Clint was running down the alley, closely followed by Maria and Rhodey. Stark watched with interest the way her body reacted at his voice, yet tensed when he tried to touch her.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, cautiously brushing her arm. She looked like she wanted him to hold her and at the same time run far, far away. But she didn't say a word and nodded instead, hugging herself to stop the shaking of her shoulders. The others exchanged glances and with the usual efficiency, Maria sent Bruce fetch the car with Rhodey while Thor stood as a sentinel to watch their surroundings. The evening was over. _What were those kids doing at the Helicarrier anyway?_ Stark thought, _didn't they have school the next morning?_ Oh well, if they wanted to be hung over in the morning, that was their problem. More urgent stuff was currently going on.

"Are your parents home?" Maria asked, stepping closer to the redhead. Natasha shook her head.

"They've gone to Europe for two months. They won't come back till next month."

Stark's fists tightened in anger. How people could just leave their daughter behind without any form of supervision would always stun him. His father hadn't been a model parent, but at least he always made sure Tony wasn't alone during his business trips.

"I'd rather you stay with us until then," the brunette said, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "We have a couple of free guest rooms, you'll be fine there."

Natasha accepted the offer with grateful eyes. They waited in silence while the car was being brought around. Tony took advantage of that moment to observe Clint and his not-girlfriend as they both stood side by side, with Clint pretending not to send worried glances at her and her pretending not to notice. He concluded those two would be hooking up within the week and absently wondered if a betting pool had been drawn yet and how high the latest bid was.

 

* * *

 

She couldn't sleep. Natasha supposed that being assaulted by two guys that ran away afterwards would do that. She was just thankful that Maria had insisted she slept at the warehouse; she didn't feel like spending a night alone. The room she was given was nice, but couldn't stop the insecurity creeping in. Although she knew people were nearby, she couldn't stop tensing at every little unfamiliar noise, which happened every five seconds. Pipes whistling, walls cracking, wind blowing…

Natasha stood up, pushed the door of her room open and strolled down the corridor. At first, she intended to stop by the bathroom and upon her return read a book since she probably wouldn't get any sleep. But sometime along the way, her feet stopped in front of _his_ room.

Over time, Natasha had remembered what had occurred when she had last crossed that threshold. He was halfway carrying her, she was laughing like there was no tomorrow and babbling about the fun she had. Once the door had been closed, once they had both changed clothes for the night, once they had lain on the bed, his hands had wandered over her face, hers had caressed his chest, and they had kissed and made out until exhaustion had taken over and they had fallen asleep. She knew why she hadn't pushed him away. It wasn't the alcohol that had lowered her defenses, but the feeling of safety she felt around him, like she knew he'd never hurt her. And the way he touched her, not frenetic and overpowering but slow and discovering, had made her want more despite not knowing him at all.

Natasha bit her lower lip. Would she feel that safety again if she stepped back in? She hadn't been in his bedroom since that night. Then again, she didn't really have any reason to. But to feel safe again… She pushed the door open and entered the room. Clint wasn't asleep. His still form stiffened and straightened the moment she closed the door.

"Tasha?" She hadn't realized how much she wanted to hear his voice until now. "Tasha, that you?"

She stepped closer to the round-shaped bed. Wait, round-shaped bed? Odd, Natasha thought. She hadn't paid great attention to the decor last time she had been here, she'd have to remedy that tomorrow. In the darkness, she managed to draw the shape of his body, the way he leaned forwards as she approached.

"Can I stay here?" she asked quietly.

There was no hesitation in his movements as Clint moved aside to let her in. Natasha climbed on the bed and immediately curled up on the warm spot he had left for her.

His hand reached out and tentatively held hers. Natasha didn't pull away. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe evenly. After a while, as his thumb ran over her knuckles in a soothing way, Natasha released a breath she hadn't realized holding and relaxed a little. She felt safe here, tucked between his sheets and smelling him around her. She could feel Clint right across her, unmoving, breathing even but probably staring at her. It didn't bother her. On the opposite, Clint watching her was a reassuring thought.

Natasha didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she felt sunrays over her face and the mattress moving beneath her. Scratch that, a mattress wasn't warm and moving. Her eyes snapped open and she met Clint's gray-blue amused ones.

Oh, darn.

"Morning, sweetheart," he said with a cheeky grin. Her cheeks must be burning from embarrassment. He didn't seem to mind having her crushing his chest, so she didn't hurry to get away. It _was_ a nice, solid chest.

"Hi?" she replied, her voice raspy with sleepiness. To her discontent, he shifted position so she ended up on the side facing him. Although his eyes were bright and alert, his voice was deep and still husky from sleep. His hair looked even messier than usual and she resisted the urge to run her hand through it. It _did_ look kinda soft…

"Slept well?" Natasha nodded. He smiled. "That's great. Phil said we could skip school today if yer still a bit uneasy. We still got another twenty if y'wanna stay longer."

"I'll be fine," she replied with a yawn and shifted into a more comfortable position. "Twenty's great." If her hand happened to brush his along the way…well, coincidences _did_ happen.

In spite of the relaxed atmosphere, Natasha couldn't bring herself to close her eyes. Clint was staring back at her too, his face unreadable. She wondered what was going through his head, but she lay content.

"You'll be all right?" he eventually asked.

"No trauma, I promise," she replied with a small smile and she meant it. Clint seemed to relax considerably, but the worry was still visible in the line around his mouth.

"Sorry you got sucked into all my issues."

Natasha took his hand and squeezed it. She tried not to ponder over the warmth of his and how he suddenly stilled.

"I told you. Not running away."

Another bright smile grew on his face, but it was obvious there was another thing on his mind. They remained silent, watching each other thoroughly, intimately. Natasha didn't mind, though; he made her feel safe. After a while, Clint seemed to gather his guts and asked, "I know it must be the last thing you want to talk about but…did the kiss bother you?"

She almost laughed. His eyes were urging her for a genuine response. So Natasha gave him one.

"No," she replied honestly. She had been upset at the time, but more about how much she had enjoyed it. She liked him for sure, had let him in faster than anyone else and definitively wanted more. The barely two weeks thing bothered her a little. Being able to trust someone was the basis of everything, and she was tempted to give herself away to guy she barely knew?

Natasha realized he hadn't spoken yet. A question was on his mind, saw him hesitate, watched him as he inhaled sharply and asked quietly:

"Would you mind if I did it again?"

He was expecting a straight rejection, but still tried. Natasha had to admit she kinda liked his particular brand of persistence. So she answered genuinely, "No. I wouldn't."

Clint's eyes widened in surprise, the corners of his mouth tilted up in disbelief. She tried hard to restrain her urge to burst into laughter again but sobered when he cupped her cheek, leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. The contact was so gentle, so _chaste_ it made her giggle.

"What?" The puzzled look on his face made her laugh harder.

"Given the way you kissed me yesterday, I'd expect you a bit more… _passionate_ ," She teased him. Her smile weakened as something shifted in his eyes. The clear slate blue turned darker, more intense in a slightly frightening way.

"I can give you more passionate," he whispered, and the huskiness of his voice made her shiver, but not in fear.

"Try me," was her daring reply, and Natasha meant it. She wouldn't break easily and she didn't want him to treat her as something fragile. The second of surprised passed, and Clint's grin came back full force.

"You've got it, sweetheart."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite done with chap 12, but ironically chap 13 and 14 are nearly ready to be posted. Anyway, here is Steve's great comeback!
> 
>  
> 
> And please enjoy :)

 

**11.**

Steve wasn't particularly nervous, per say. No, not nervous at all. The trembling of his fingers had nothing to do with the lump he felt in his throat and the slight sweat over his forehead. He wanted this, right? He wanted to enter the world of music and make a living of it. So why was he so ( _not_ , he reminded himself) nervous?

"Mr. Rogers?"

The brunette, who had introduced herself as Maria Hill (he already knew her name, they were at the same high-school after all), stared at him expectantly. Steve jumped to his feet and followed her.

Thanks to Bobbi's badmouthing of everyone, he knew a couple of rumors on her persona, but had never truly interacted with her. Maria Hill wasn't at all what he expected, yet at the same time exactly like he had pictured her – a stern, dry and professional young woman. After the provisionary contract he had signed with Mr. Furholl, she had been his liaison. While he wasn't particularly at ease with her, she didn't judge him or attempted to coddle. No, she was straight to the point, patient, presented facts clearly and precisely and asked the right questions.

Today was the first time he'd be in a real studio to practice. Today would be his chance to prove himself he was worth more than just little weakling Steve who hid in his best friend's shadow. He was surprised, though, when she walked out of the building and into the parking lot.

"Where are we going?"

"To the recording studio," she replied without missing a beat. "We need you to be at ease with the material when you will start working with Mr. Parker. Mr. Fury's partner agreed to let you use his personal studio."

Steve nodded. Of course, that was part of the deal. The first song he'd sing on would be a duet with an already known performer, Peter Parker. They had met once and Steve had a feeling they could do decent work together. Fury seemed to be of the same opinion. If his first work had positive results, Fury would give him more freedom and later on the possibility of writing his own songs. Steve had no idea what 'later on' exactly meant, but he was determined to give it a go. He had his chance and he was going to grab it.

He climbed into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt. The ride lasted half an hour in complete silence. He had no conversational skills whatsoever and she didn't open her mouth to encourage him so he kept staring at the neighborhood outside. They arrived in a district he had never been in before and stopped in front of a huge building. From the outside, it looked more like a residence but leftovers of some architectural details let him know this was a repurposed warehouse. The isolated location made him nervous.

"Is this where you dump the body?" he blurted. Hill raised an eyebrow at him and Steve blushed heavily. Fine, he was nervous.

"Director Fury wanted to give you a chance, but I am not convinced," Hill stated coolly. She led the way inside through corridors until they reached a small room in which a stage was set up. "I am your auditor. Impress me."

Steve's pulse skyrocketed.

"But I thought I was in?"

Hill's stare was inflexible.

"That will be up to me and the three next auditors, who will watch you to decide. You've held a microphone before?" He nodded. "I'll give you twenty minutes to practice whatever piece you want. Then I'll be back with the rest of the jury. Until then, Mr. Rogers." She walked out of the door, ignoring his panicked look.

_Twenty minutes to practice? I'll never make it!_ The blonde thought, already on the edge of hyperventilating. He forced himself to calm the heck down and breathe deeply.

Steve thought of his uncle, Dr. Erksine, the first one who had ever encouraged him to develop his voice. He remembered the hours of practice Miss Carter put him through, the tips from Mr. Philip. He closed his eyes momentarily. James Barnes. The one person he thought would never fail him, the only one who didn't mock his passion for singing, but didn't encourage it either. How stupid had Steve been to be so blind? James was his best friend, his mentor almost. But on the flip side, he was such an utter douchebag.

Steve took a deep breath and stepped closer to the microphone. He tapped the tip, making sure the echo wouldn't be a problem. He warmed up his voice with the exercises Miss Carter had taught him. At the same time, he imagined the three people who had recognized his voice sitting there, smiling encouragingly –or in Mr. Philip's case, staring blankly. Steve smiled in spite of himself. The three had been the only public he had needed for a long time. Now, he wanted to expand his horizons.

So when he felt he was ready, he closed his eyes and sang.

_All around me are familiar faces,_

_Worn out place, worn out faces,_

_Bright and early for the daily races_

_Going nowhere, going nowhere._

He let the sound envelop him, the words flow from his mouth like a steam.

_Their tears are filling up their glasses_

_No expression, no expression_

_Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow_

_No tomorrow, no tomorrow_

Steve didn't hear the door open, didn't realize he wasn't alone anymore.

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had_

_I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take_

_When people run in circles it's a very, very_

_Mad world, mad world…_

All that mattered were the words he sang, those familiar faces smiling encouragingly at him, telling him he was doing great, that he'd go far, that he just needed to trust himself. He kept on singing the second verse, lost in his own world, until he opened his eyes and stopped abruptly.

Hill was back with a crowd. A tall, half-bald man; a dark-haired man; two middle aged people and a few high-school classmates were all congregated on the floor. Hill's arm was halfway raised, as if intending to prevent someone from moving or talking. Her face was blank but he thought he could detect a hint of approval in the contours of her mouth. The half-bald man looked clearly impressed and the two other adults' faces were blank. The dark-haired man – whom he recognized Tony Stark – was smirking. His classmates were Bruce Banner, Jasper Sitwell and – he swallowed – Natasha.

"I think that'll be enough, Mr. Rogers," Hill said. "Welcome to the Furholl School of Creative Arts."

* * *

"Holy shit, man, you can sing!"

Steve blushed heavily as he heard the evident admiration in the other's eyes. Even the half-bald man –Coulson, he remembered vaguely - was staring with something akin to stars in his eyes. Hill had handed him three pages to sign, given him a copy of the contract they had already discussed, and left to take care of some other business. The two older adults had followed her, so Steve was left with the DJ and his classmates.

"I never knew you sang," Natasha said in turn. The genuine awe in her voice made him blush. "How long?"

Steve squared his shoulders when he realized everyone was listening.

"A while. I don't remember when I started, I just never stopped. And I was helped a little along the way," he added, thinking of his three original supporters. He'd have to give them a call later to tell them the news.

"Well you were right," Coulson confirmed with a serious nod. "It paid off well. Furholl is serious business, they'll take care of you."

The odd glint in the man's eyes made Steve wonder if he was the one who'd be following him closely.

"How did you get noticed?" Banner asked.

"I was singing in the garden for my grandma. And all of a sudden this guy, Mr. Furholl, shows up and gives me a sheet to get enrolled in his school… I just decided I needed to give it a chance."

"Good for you," Jasper said. Natasha's brow creased.

"So James didn't give you a push?"

At the name, Jasper and Banner stiffened; they had forgotten the blonde was a friend of Natasha's ex. Surprisingly, Steve's eyes shined with betrayal.

"I heard what Bucky did to you; what he did with Bobbi behind your back. You don't deserve that." Natasha wanted to assure him it was fine, that he didn't have to feel responsible for his friend's behavior, but Steve tended to carry the weight of the world on his frail shoulders. She knew he looked up to Bucky, admired him in spite of his faults and had something of a boy-crush on him. But he must have had truly enough of his friend's behavior to try without talking to him first. "And he thought singing wasn't really manly, per se, so he didn't encourage it. I made the decision on my own."

"Perfect!" Tony chipped in rather loudly. "New recruit, new friend…I think it's time to celebrate."

"Stark…" Phil warned with a raised eyebrow.

"That midget has a golden voice," Stark went on, ignoring him. Steve frowned, not knowing if he should take it as a compliment or an insult. Coming from that guy, probably both. "And he's a friend of birdbrain's girlfriend." This time, Natasha glared at him and Steve wondered where the blush on her cheeks came from. Who was birdbrain? Had the redhead already found someone else? He'd have to ask her later. "So even if he won't be part of the Shield crew," Tony motioned the blonde's frail body, "We need to throw a party!"

"You just want an excuse to drink," Banner muttered, and everyone agreed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is one of my favorite chapters. I'm not a Maria/Coulson shipper to begin with, but they were easy to write in here. Hope you enjoy this :)

**13**

 

 

“Natasha, can I see you for a second?”

The redhead glanced up and spotted Phil standing nearby the exit door.  They were in the middle of a rehearsal with the complete Shield and most of the Asgardian crew, sans Sif and Loki.  The disappointment on Clint’s face had been hilarious.  Maria, who was directing the show and dancing at the same, threw him an annoyed glare.

“Is it urgent?” she asked, annoyed.  The man shrugged.

“This shouldn’t take long.”

Maria muttered something quite unflattering and nodded towards the redhead.  Natasha left the room, feeling everyone’s questioning gaze on her.  She had that odd feeling of being excused from class because she was being called to the principal’s office.  Given Coulson was the equivalent of principal of this house and Maria one of its top teachers, perhaps she wasn’t far off.

“What is it?”

Coulson gave her a reassuring smile and motioned her to move.  “Don’t worry, there’s just someone who wants to meet you.”

He led her through the corridors and stopped in front of a halfway opened door, which she recognized as being his office.  Phil entered without knocking.

“She’s here.”

A black man with an eyepatch was sitting in the visitor’s chair.   Natasha recognized him right away.  She had only seen him once a couple of weeks ago, but she didn’t forget Nick Fury’s impressive stature.   Now what the hell did he want with her?

“Good morning, Miss Romanoff,” he said, his deep voice reverberating throughout the office.  Phil walked around the desk, leaving her next to the free chair at a respectable distance from the School for Creative Arts’ headmaster.  She sat warily, not looking away from his eyes, and very conscious of her current state of dress: a tank top, old leggings and worn out trainers.  Not to mention her hair were tied in a messy knot on the top of her head and her skin flushed from the recent intense exercise.

“Sir,” she greeted, half out of politeness and half out of abject fear for the man.  His impassible face made her feel uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t let her uneasiness show.  It wasn’t easy, though.

“You have talent, Miss Romanoff,” Fury said bluntly, his one eye fixing her with an intense stare. “Are you considering applying to a school for the arts or other arts program?”

“No, sir,” she replied quickly.  When he eyed her into giving him a more detailed answer, she sighed and added: “I am directed more towards law school.” At least, that’s where her parents wanted her to go.

“That would be a waste.” The man shifted in his seat and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I have rarely seen young people with your kind of talent.  Your skills are still raw and uncertain, but with the right classes, I know you will go far.”

Natasha quirked an eyebrow and asked sarcastically, “Are you trying to recruit me?”

The black man revealed a sharp smile. His odd smirk reminded her of a shark.  A hungry shark.  “That would be right.” Natasha blinked in surprise, although at second thought, she should have expected it.  Why bother meeting her in person if he wasn’t intending to offer her something? “There would be an entrance exam, but with your skills, it will be a formality.”

The invitation sounded tempting. Unfortunately...

“I can’t rely on dance alone.  There are other people who are better than I am.  Always have been, always will be,” she pointed out, thinking of a couple of names.

“I have no doubt of that,” Fury replied. “And a dancer who hasn’t got a second skill is no use to me.”

“Maria is Fury’s assistant as well as a dancer,” Phil intervened quickly, before she could take the sentence as an insult. “She knows the ground but Furholl’s Creative Art School also gives classes in administrative domain.  Steve will be studying art on the side, and I assume Clint will choose mechanics.  If things don’t turn out well for you, we don’t want our students to feel trapped.  If they eventually chose to follow a different path, Fury has associates all over the world, and not only in the dance area.  The tuition is reasonable and you can apply for financial support if you think you can’t make it.”

Natasha stood speechless.  Was he giving her a VIP pass to enter his school?

“Let’s put it this way, Miss Romanoff.” Fury spoke again. “Last year, a girl asked to join my school.  She had the talent, but not the passion.  Although she was brilliant and better than most candidates, I didn’t keep her.  You have the talent, and you obviously have the passion.  This school can and will make you the best, if you give it a chance.” Fury dropped a brochure on Coulson’s desk. “If you are interested in joining, Phil knows what to do.  I will be waiting to hear from you, Miss Romanoff.”

The redhead watched him stand up and walked towards the door. Before he left, she asked hurriedly:

“Why do you think I have the passion?  What makes you so sure I’ll fit?”

Fury turned around to look at her and smirked.  “I understood you have more of a classical background and you’ve been initiated to street dance very recently.”  She nodded in confirmation. “Two months into learning, and under Hill’s directive, nonetheless,” Natasha almost asked who was ‘Hill’ before remembering it was Maria’s last name. “And she hasn’t kicked you out; neither have you quit.  That, Miss Romanoff, is proof enough for me.”

  

* * *

 

 

“So Fury’s enlisting her,” Maria asked, though it was less of a question and more of a statement, before shoving her forearms deep in the bubbly sink.

“He’s really interested in her,” Coulson replied easily, his hands rubbing a wet glass pensively with the towel.  Maria snorted.

“Is it a spree? First Rogers, then Natasha...who will he hire next?”

“In their defense, they are talented,” Phil pointed out, dropping the glass on the table and picking up a plate.

It was his and Maria’s turn to take care of the dishes tonight.  Thankfully, there were only five people at dinner that night – Maria, Gillian, Clint, Natasha, and himself.  The redhead was staying with them another week, until her parents returned from their business trip.  He didn’t mind much; she was nice to Gillian and made Clint happy.  Coulson had no doubt they spent an unreasonable amount of time in the young man’s room making out, if the messy hair and the pink marks she tried to hide beneath her clothes and Clint’s goofy grins were any tells.  Although he strongly doubted they had crossed the line yet…

Coulson shook his head.   _That_ was territory he was most certainly not ready to explore yet.  Having ‘the Talk’ with the kid the first time had been an adventure in and of itself.  He wasn’t ready for a second confrontation to lay the rules yet.

“Speaking of Clint and Natasha, it reminds me…There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a while, but never got the chance to get around it,” Maria said casually – too casually, immediately catching Phil’s attention. The woman was anything but casual, especially if she started a conversation that way. It also meant he was probably not going to like what would follow. “How long have you been in love with me?”

Phil nearly dropped the plate.  Out of all the possibilities of questions that had crossed his mind, this one had definitely _not_.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, keeping his voice a cool neutral.  What was she thinking?  What did she suspect?  What would she do if…

“I’m not stupid Phil, and neither are you.” Maria stopped the faucet, cutting off the water, and stared at him. “So stop playing dumb and answer the goddamn question.”

The man’s lips thinned into a straight line.  The woman took her own towel to wipe her hands and stepped closer to him.  Phil put down the plate next to the glass, ignoring her, but couldn’t stop the shaking in his hands.

“I wasn't quite sure, but you just confirmed it,” she added quietly. “Now tell me, please.”

“A year or maybe more; I didn’t realize it until recently,” he replied, subdued. “Does it matter?”

Maria observed him quietly, her face completely closed up.

“I know Gillian’s been calling you ‘Dad’,” she said, slowly. “I was wondering whether it was a regular occurrence or just an occasional slip.”

“Occasional slip, but it’s becoming more regular.  She did it once and I didn’t correct her.  Your daughter needs a father figure.” He paused at her sharp inhale of breath and stared at his shoes. “You know I’d do anything for that kid, right?”

“Phil, as far as I’m concerned, you have been her father in every way that matters.” The man raised his head to look at Maria so fast it hurt.  She held his gaze with a tight smile. “You’ve been here for us. You held her hand and told her bedtime stories when she was sick.  You welcomed us like we were family, in spite of what your friends – hell, what everybody said.  Even when rumors ran around about me using you, you didn’t kick us out.  We owe you a lot, Phil.  I just…I just want to know if there won’t be repercussions in the long term.”

Her words trailed off, but he knew what she meant.  It saddened him to that she would think him capable of using her daughter for leverage, but he supposed she couldn’t help it.  Being abused by someone you trusted was a major trauma that didn’t heal so fast.

“I’ll never take advantage of you or use Gillian against you,” He spoke softly. “Don’t worry, I knew my feelings wouldn’t be returned, I wasn’t fooling myself.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The man snorted and stared at her in disbelief.  “Maria, you were barely fourteen when I took you and Clint in.  You were just out of a difficult pregnancy with an infant, and easier scared off than a doe and looking up at me like a father figure.  I am ten years your senior and you had much more important things on your mind.  I couldn’t – wouldn’t - let you carry that burden.  You, Gillian and Clint are my family first and foremost.  I won’t let whatever I may feel towards you destroy that.”

Much to his surprise, Maria chucked and gave him that half smile of hers.  “You’re even more of a hopeless romantic that Clint is.”

Phil raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the response.  “Clint is a hopeless romantic?”

“I found a hidden stack of bad romance novels under the panel of his closet when I cleaned his room a while ago,” she replied, deadpan. “And Phil, I…I can’t be with anyone right now.  It’s been five years but it…it’s still hard.  I might never be ready.” Her voice trembled but she kept her eyes firmly set on his, determined to get her message through. “But I know that if I ever got involved with someone in the future, it’d be y…”

Coulson interrupted her leaning a finger over her lips.

“You’ll choose whoever you want whenever you want,” he replied quietly. “For the time being, I’m content being your friend and Gillian’s surrogate dad.”

Maria had always needed stable, reliable, patient.  He had known that from the start.  He also knew she saw through his part-lie; he was content, yes, but he wasn’t quite ready to lose her to another.  The beginning of her confession did reassure him though.  If she was attracted to him, then maybe, one day...

Maria turned away first, turning the water on again to continue her washing.  Phil sighed.  Maybe they would end up together, but in the meantime, there were still dishes to do.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait…I have no excuse aside from uni and lack of motivation. Hope you haven't given up on me ^^"  
> Please enjoy :)

**13**

James Barnes was not happy. More than that, he was pissed. One day he had everything he wanted, everything he needed. Popularity with his schoolmates and teachers, good grades, good friends, a gorgeous girlfriend he really liked. Then one day, he made that stupid dumbass mistake: he let himself turn into a big-headed and greedy jerk. He respected Natasha's wish of not rushing into things, but fuck, he was getting impatient. He wanted to be one of those guys who could brag about their bedroom adventures.

So when Bobbi started implying she was interested, he just jumped on the opportunity. Literally. Without thinking of the consequences. And so when Natasha had realized his misjudgment and called them off, it hit him pretty hard. His social popularity didn't suffer, but his friendship with Steve became strained and he lost his girlfriend to a group of losers. At first he naively thought things would eventually turn round, that Steve would eventually forgive him and Natasha come back to him. Bobbi was just a fling and the redhead liked his popularity after all, liked being with him, and they were good together, weren't they?

As it turned out, Steve started drifting away from them and Natasha never came back. In fact, she and Steve were now part of the freak group and Natasha was getting awfully too comfortable with one of those losers: Barton. The guy had been pining after her for a while and, contrary to popular belief, James never missed the longing glances the teen threw at Natasha when he thought no one was looking. And now that she had joined their group, Barton had made his move and – to his uttermost surprise - succeeded. There was that light in her eyes when he spoke to her, lingering brushes – brief, but James knew Natasha well enough to recognize her way of dealing with intimacy. A couple of quick kisses, on the cheek or knuckles (knuckles, seriously?), holding hands…

Whatever they thought they had between them was growing fast and he hated it. He hated that Natasha was letting that guy touch her. When they were together, James showed signs of affection, was more tactile but she only responded half of the time. There, with Barton, the physical contact was minimal but the look in their eyes compensated. She never looked at _him_ that way. He thought they were good, but obviously he had been missing something big.

So, James thought, he was going to get back what was his and this time, wouldn't repeat his mistakes. And that started by eliminating the competition.

He waited until Barton was isolated – and that was hard, if Natasha wasn't glued to him one of his stupid friends was - to make his move.

"Hey you," James called out. Barton ignored him and went for his notebooks in his locker, still whistling. James took a step closer, straightened up to show off his impressive muscles and made sure he caught his attention. "I'm talking to you."

"Barnes," Barton greeted impassively before picking up another book and shoving it in his bag, not paying him more attention than before. That startled James a little; no one ignored him. No one. "Whaddaya want?"

"Back off of Natasha. If you don't, I'll come after you. This will be your only warning." Barton raised an eyebrow at him. James hated the ' _are you serious?_ ' expression on his face. It made him feel like he was being tagged 'idiot' by some moron.

"Why should I?" Barton asked calmly, closing the locker and picking up his bag. The other teen felt a vein pulsing on his forehead and was his eye twitching?

"You don't deserve her and she's mine! So one last time. _Back. Off._ "

Barton stared at him in disbelief, then amusement, and snorted. "Man, no wonder she broke up with you." He was about to turn around and walk away when he suddenly stilled and threw over his shoulder: "Oh and about backing off? _Make me_."

 

* * *

 

Clint loved the fury that literally tore the man's face. A part of him was thrilled at the reaction, another hated Barnes with a burning passion for the way he had just spoken of Natasha, like she was an object to be conquered, a mere possession. The girl was nowhere close to that and she had chosen to stay with him. Maybe he didn't deserve her – heck, he was well aware of that - but it didn't mean he wouldn't do anything to step up to be the guy she deserved to be with.

That thought was still running thought his mind when he approached the group. Somehow, as usual, Natasha felt his shift of mood and called him on it.

"Clint, are you all right?"

The teen stared at her, stared at her beautiful red hair, her big green eyes, her smooth lips and acted on impulse. It might cost him a severe punch later, but he didn't care. He took her chin in his right hand, tipped it upwards and pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't a gentle kiss like they use to share in public; this time he attacked her mouth almost aggressively, his tongue slipping between her lips when they parted. Natasha reacted immediately and gave as good as she got. Her arms went around his neck, one hand possessively gripping the soft hair at the base of his neck. His hands slipped on her lower back and pushed her into him. When they parted for air, her cheeks had turned pinkish and she was panting. Her eyes were darkened with something akin to lust and he reeled in the knowledge he had provoked it. Clint figured he must be in a similar state anyway.

"Okay, that was _hot_."

Both heads snapped to the right and realized they had gathered quite the crowd. Bruce was staring at them with his jaw hanging low, Maria had her arms crossed and one eyebrow up and Jasper –who had made the comment, wore an amused smirk. Natasha glared, Clint grinned shamelessly.

"Get a room," Maria mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I don't think Phil would agree," Clint returned. "He's bad enough about Nat and I making out on the couch."

"The couch? As the living room couch? Man!" Jasper snapped in mild disgust. "I _sit_ on that thing!"

The others laughed good-naturedly and left it there. It wasn't until later that day that Natasha brought it up again.

"Soooo… what was that?"

He tilted his head on the side. Natasha was dressed in her usual exercise pants and training T-shirt. They had just finished running through a routine where they had to dance together on and were taking a break. They were catching their breath and, apparently, the opportunity was good enough for his girlfriend to speak up.

"What was what, sweetheart?" he knew what she was talking about, he just didn't want to cave too quickly.

"At school, that kiss." A nice pink shaded her cheeks a second. "Not that I didn't like it, but why?"

Clint perused his options: tell the truth and most likely get his ass kicked for his display of male possessiveness? Or pretext he just wanted to mess with their friends a bit? He went for the truth. It might earn him a bruise (or five), but at least he couldn't say he'd been lying to his girlfriend.

"I ran into Barnes. I just figured it wouldn't hurt to remind him that you weren't his doll anymore."

"So you just decided to kiss me like a caveman?" she didn't sound upset, just a little annoyed – or disappointed?

"You underestimate me greatly, Tasha," he said, furrowing his brow and adopting a mock-serious tone. "If I wanted to kiss you like a caveman, you'd have been right up against the wall."

To her credit, she didn't bat an eye. Instead, her ears and neck turned an attractive shade of bright red and he knew she was imagining the scene. He chuckled and stepped closer.

"Like I said, just wanted to make a statement." He put his finger under her chin again and raised her head so her eyes would meet his. "You're mine Nat, and fuck the day anyone's taking you away from me."

The redhead's lips twisted in an odd manner.

"Yours? Really?" there was a hint of annoyance at her tone.

"It's only fair," he replied with a shrug. "I love you. We're together. Why can't I claim you as my own?" He took a strand of her hair and twirled it between his fingers. Brought it to his lips and kissed it. Her heart skipped a beat. He _loved_ her?

"So, I'm yours. That means you're mine?" she repeated slowly, her face carefully neutral. He nodded, piercing her soul with his look.

"You're okay with that?"

Natasha accepted the slow kiss he delivered and rested her forehead against his.

"I got good news, by the way," Clint said after a few moments. His eyes were sparkling with mischief. "Tony's finally set up a date for the first tournament. We're barging in next Saturday, so double training every day." Much to his surprise, though, she didn't look extremely enthusiastic about it.

"There's something we need to talk about," she said slowly, reluctantly. Clint frowned, not liking the tone in her voice. "My parents are back. I have to go home tomorrow." And the mocking half smile that came over her face didn't reassure him one bit. "I don't think they'll let me into the competition."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry for the lateness...Hope this chapter will make up for the lost time ^^"   
> Enjoy :)

**14.**

 

Natasha loved her parents, she truly did. She knew they loved her too, even though their absence as she grew up had weighed heavily on her during her early teenage years.  She had eventually come to terms that they wouldn’t always be there for her and she would have to live most of her young life without them.  Obviously, it also drew them apart.

They had no idea who she spent her time with (well, they used to know Bobbi and James, but they were old news already). They didn’t suspect how deep her passion for dance ran.  They wouldn’t understand her choices because they didn’t communicate well anymore, for obvious reasons.

So when Diana and Mikhail Romanoff arrived, Natasha wasn’t surprised that they hugged her quickly and asked straight away which restaurant she’d prefer to eat at.  It was a ritual: they’d sit around a nicely decorated table, talk about their traveling; they’d ask how she did in class, how were her friends, and then after a satisfied grunt, they’d return to their meal.  Tonight though, Natasha wanted to expand the conversation.  She wanted to mention the crew, the offer Fury made, how tempted she was to focus on dance, with law on the side.

“We were lucky to finish the meeting when we did,” Diana said by way of introduction. “We managed to come back for your birthday.”

Natasha translated mentally: ‘ _we were on a business trip and if it hadn’t gone well, we would have skipped your birthday but you’re old enough to understand where priorities lay now._ ’ Then she remembered her birthday.  Six days from now.  Friday night. The crew battle night.

“How are you dance classes going?” her mother asked before Natasha could tackle the subject.

“I…haven’t been there for a while now,” Natasha replied, feeling slightly guilty. They had been paying for the lessons after all, and Miss Kate didn’t teach for cheap.

“So you’re quitting?” her father asked in turn. When she “mmhm”ed in agreement, he nodded. “Good. I always thought it was a waste of time and money. You’ll be able to concentrate on your homework more then.”  Ballet had been her mother’s wish for Natasha but her father never truly saw the point.

Not the moment to mention the crew then, Natasha thought grimly.  She’d have to work them slowly and not announce the news too bluntly.  They’d have a stroke.  So that meant she’d actually have to work out an excuse.

“What about James?”

Natasha’s fork paused halfway to her mouth.  Another subject she would have to tread carefully around.  “We broke up,” she eventually said before engulfing her pasta in her mouth. Her mother looked crestfallen.

“Isn’t that a shame? He seemed to be such a decent young man! What happened?”

Natasha felt vaguely irritated.  She finished her pasta first – she’d get an earful if she spoke with her mouth full – and replied bluntly:

“He cheated on me, all right? Let’s not talk about it.”

Diana looked stunned. Mikhail snorted: “I just hope you didn’t do inappropriate things with him before you two parted.”

Natasha glared at her father. How was that any of his business? Since when did he actually care? Ah, yeah, reputation; something else they were hardcore on.

“I didn’t do inappropriate things with _him_.” She muttered.  Something clicked in her mind, and perhaps she was tired of putting up a good front or perhaps she had spent too much time with the crew, but she added with a naughty smirk: “But damn I _do_ with my new boyfriend.” Both parents stared at her in shock, and she raised an innocent eyebrow. “I’m a hormonal driven, emotionally unstable teenager.  What did you expect?”

 

* * *

 

 

Iron Man was driving the crowd crazy and the atmosphere was about to burst, but Clint couldn’t care less. Two days.  Two days since Natasha had left them to return to her parents and he had barely seen her.  Her parents had arrived on a Friday, and he wasn’t going to see her before Monday at school. And Monday, they didn’t have more than two classes in common. He eyed his cell phone sadly.  They had exchanged a couple of texts since then, but he didn’t want to appear overbearing or be clingy.  Natasha was a big girl and could take care of herself.  Just, not having her around was driving him _crazy_.

“Good evening, Hawk.”

Clint nearly jumped off his seat, startled. There was his best nemesis, standing next to him and grinning like a Cheshire cat.  It was a rare expression on Lucas Odinson’s face; he was usually all for being broody on his own, smirking with a mischievous light in the back of his eyes.  Lately, he had been more open though, so perhaps Clint shouldn’t be surprised.

“Fuck off, Loki,” he grumbled, calling his usually favorite opponent by his Street nickname.  It has always been a sign of respect between the two. “I’m not in the mood.”

That didn’t discourage the dark-haired teenager. He leaned against the counter, almost sprawled over the flat surface and tilted his head on the side like a dismantled doll to check out his face.

“I heard the mighty Hawkeye was sulking in a corner and came to see it for myself.” His smirk grew an inch and his green eyes sparkled. “So it _was_ true.”

Clint glared at him.  “Whaddya want?”

Loki didn’t reply right away. He straightened with dignity, checked his nails and went on:

“Is all this about the redhead everyone keeps talking about? What’s her name already…Natalia?”

“Natasha,” Clint corrected before glancing at his cell phone mournfully. He didn’t quite expect her to text him tonight, but he still wished she’d drop him a line.

“My poor friend,” Loki sighed dramatically. “You are so, so dependent now.”

“So what?” he protested defensively. “Like you’re not pathetic, when y’ try t’ go after Sif?”

Loki glared at him.

“That is none of your business.”

“Exactly. So fuck off, dimwit.”

 “Dimwit? That is not a very nice appellation.”

“I ain’t trying to be nice. I’m trying t’kick you out.”

“Fine,” Loki huffed, before sitting down on the vacant seat next to Clint and ordering a beer.  Clint stared at him in suspicion.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Since no one on the ground has the guts to challenge me-” The blonde teen rolled his eyes – there were plenty of challengers on a Saturday night – “I figured I would mope in your company.”

Clint rolled his eyes but didn’t pursue his investigation.  A part of him was greatly annoyed at his stubborn presence, but another part, smaller yet still there, was glad he was staying.  He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he, maybe, was feeling a little lonely.

“Thanks, man,” He muttered, barely raising his drink in a small cheer.  Loki shrugged.

“Don’t mention it.” Pause. “It wouldn’t aid my reputation.”

 

* * *

 

 

Monday couldn’t arrive fast enough for Natasha.  True, she missed her parents when they were absent, but now that she had found the crew as a second family, their presence was oppressing.  Usually they tended to leave her alone at home too, but when she had implied that Clint and she had done _things,_ they had suddenly decided to take a second glance at her extra activities.  Thanks to her little misstep, she was good for being forced to report anything she did outside of school.

The pressure and drilling questions they kept asking were so annoying, Natasha was glad when her alarm rang that morning.  She rose early, used to having to prepare awhile before leaving for school when living with the others, but also eager to arrive there. She felt Clint would be arriving far before the first bell rang too.

Her parents weren’t up yet and she didn’t wait after them. She made the usual twenty or so minutes in ten to reach the school, and was particularly glad she did.  Parked a little astray from the front gate, the crew was just stepping out of the car and Natasha felt her heartbeat accelerate when she spotted her boyfriend.

“Hey!” she called enthusiastically. Clint beamed at her and gave her a heated kiss and Natasha practically _melted_ in his embrace.  It had only be a weekend, but after living in the same house and spending pretty much every moment with him, she _missed_ him.  Given the way his grip over her waist tightened, so did he.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he replied after they parted, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to see you.”  Her own smile widened and she leaned forwards for another kiss, much tender this time.

“And that’s what I meant by Clint’s just being a prick!” Jasper’s voice rose somewhere in the background. “Giving us hell to get here early and all just to make out with his girlfriend!”

Natasha laughed against her boyfriend’s mouth and pulled back shortly later.  Clint stepped aside so she could greet the group, but left his hand over her waist and stood close.  She didn’t try to evade his grip; in fact, she even leaned into it.  It never ceased to amaze her to see how dependent of him she was becoming. He was like a drug, sending her high.  And she didn’t want to take the cure.

“Wanna skip Russian and make out behind the school yard?” he whispered huskily in her ear with a light nuzzle in her neck. Natasha knew he was joking.  Mostly.  He would probably skip class just to spend extra time with her; and honestly, if her parents hadn’t been in the picture, she would probably have.  Instead, she offered:

“No need to skip Russian. We both have a break at ten. And I know a free classroom.”

His grin was positively feral; he definitively liked the way she thought. Maria cleared her throat with as much tact as she could muster.  Both teenagers turned their attention back to her.

“Sorry to interrupt your lovey-doveyness, but did you have a chance to ask your parents about next Friday?”

Natasha looked apologetic.  “If I tell them about the crew, they’ll freak out and hire a bodyguard just to ensure I’m not going out.” Before anyone could intervene, she added grimly: “Trust me, they nearly homeschooled me the first time I had a detention.”

“Are you serious?”

“They think Bobbi Morse is the perfect daughter-material,” Natasha replied, deadpan.  Maria snorted and Clint shook his head in mock dismay. “For next Friday I’ll tell them I’m having a sleepover at a friend’s house. For rehearsal I’ll pretend I joined a group study.”

“Every evening?” Maria pointed out. “Won’t they be just a bit suspicious?”

“You underestimate how much they care about my academic life.” She paused, and turned towards Clint. “Speaking of my parents…I told them I had a new boyfriend. They insist upon meeting you.”

Clint blinked and opened his mouth wide, but no word would come out. Maria turned away fast, but not fast enough to hide her urge to burst out into laughers.  Rhodey and Jasper weren’t so subtle.

“Oh?” he managed after a while.

“And I might have let slip that we have been…uh… _misbehaving_ ,” She added, cheeks turning crimson. She nearly turned around to shoot a glare at the now openly snickering crew.

“…ah?”

In any other case, seeing Clint looking so lost would have made her laugh.  Right now, Natasha felt slightly annoyed.

“Whenever you’re capable of using your words…”

“Sure, uh…okay? When?”

Natasha swatted the back of his head playfully.  “Not now, dummy.”  Clint pouted and demanded a kiss for apology, which she gave easily.  She then turned back to Maria. “I’ll be able to pull off the group study excuse till next week, starting today.”

“Good. The complete Asgardian crew is showing up. They practiced on their side, we just need to coordinate now.” The brunette frowned for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be all right with your parents?”

“I’m good at sneaky,” Natasha replied with a shrug, and that was all they needed.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the big show arrives :) I'm not quite good with dance description, so I'm kinda relying on your imagination to fill the holes ^^" 
> 
> I didn't quite make up the rules for crew and dance battles. While I got mostly influenced by the Step Up series, I checked how things worked in real competitions via the Internet and I don't think I strayed too much from reality ^^". If I did, feel free to correct me.
> 
> The music is 'Show Me the Money' by Petey Pablo. Hope you enjoy this :)

 

**Step Up When the Lights Go Off**

**15.**

Even though she hadn't been there for two mere days, returning to the warehouse was like inhaling fresh air after being locked up for weeks. It felt _good_. True to her word, Natasha had convinced her parents to let her study with a group (she had had to give the phone to Maria to prove them she wasn't going to spend, ahem, _quality time_ with her boyfriend, and it was a good thing Maria was a smooth liar too). They left soon after school was done, hitting home towards four. Almost immediately, Natasha ran to pick up her spare training clothes and started warming up.

She wanted to be ready when the Asgardians arrived, mostly because Sif would be present again –she had only seen the other girl once after their first battle (which she still couldn't clearly remember) and kinda wanted to show off a little (okay who was she kidding, she wanted to show off _a lot_ ), although she had no doubt Sif's abilities were still superior to hers. Another reason lay with Loki. Now _that_ was someone she was eager to meet, if only to shake hands with Clint's favorite rival. The stories and anecdotes the crew members would spill from time to time and the strong reaction Clint had when his name was mentioned made her curious about him.

Natasha was working her abs when they arrived.

Thor stepped ahead, fast followed by the Warriors Three. Another man, Henry, nicknamed Heimdall (Clint was whispering names in her ear) was right behind them. And last to enter, two slender, dark-haired young people: Sif and Loki. Natasha vaguely remembered the young man from her first night at the Helicarrier: the sneer and eyes narrowed in concentration as he executed effortlessly figures after figures, each more impressive than the former. At the time, she had appreciated the demonstration as a spectator. Now that she was actually working in the same domain, Natasha truly understood how good these people were.

She jumped on her feet to greet them, the shyness she might have shown at first long gone. She had earned her place among the crew by now – Bruce had confessed they had voted her definite entrance a month after she joined them, and Natasha had been accepted unanimously. So there was no need to hold back.

Sif grinned –or rather smirked in a vaguely friendly manner –when Natasha showed up.

"We need an encore," The brunette said by way of greeting. "I can't wait to wipe the floor with your ass when you're _sober_."

"Whenever you want, smartass," She replied with a cocky smirk. Sif threw her head back and laughed openly.

"And a fine ass it is." The Asgardian girl was suddenly distracted by another scene: Loki and Clint facing each other like two dogs on the verge of attacking. "Well, well. Looks like some people are actually waiting for a kill order. Boys!" she shouted. The two ceased their glaring contest and Natasha could finally meet the newcomer in person.

Loki up close was not quite what Natasha had expected. Sure, she had had a brief visual the last time she was at the Helicarrier, but her vision had been quite impaired by the alcohol. He was slimmer than she remembered, and handsomer too. Bright, sharp green eyes and dark hair carefully pulled back into a short, tight ponytail to prevent stray strands from impairing his sight. Although he was considerably less bulky than Clint, his forearms and tight shirt did show off nicely defined muscles and abs. Natasha must have been staring a little too much, for Clint quickly diverted her attention by wrapping an arm around her waist and glowering at his favorite nemesis. Sif couldn't hold back a snort.

"Nat, meet Lucas – sorry, _Loki_ ," he amended with a cocky smirk when the person in question glared at him.

He offered his hand to shake, which she took in spite of Clint's scowl – or perhaps because of it. Natasha didn't get to tease her boyfriend often – and she was sure he would get his revenge on her later – but it was funny to watch him get all possessive over her. Loki caught onto her game and followed suit.

"So you are the infamous Natasha," he said in a smooth, charming voice. The redhead smiled in spite of herself. "It is a true pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise. I've heard a lot about you," she replied, voice honeysweet to match his.

"Only the best, I assume."

He held her hand perhaps a little longer than he should, but Natasha followed his gaze; the quick glance in Sif's direction and the flash in her eyes… Loki was trying to make her jealous. And it worked. As soon as they parted, Sif dragged Loki elsewhere under some trifling pretense. So did Clint. He caught her wrist and pulled her aside, far enough not to be eavesdropped on.

"What was that?" he hissed, annoyed and a little pissed.

She poked his nose with her finger and pecked his lips. A blink later, the murderous glint was gone, replaced by honest confusion.

"You're so cute when you get all jealous," she said with a teasing smile before cupping his cheek. "I was just teasing you, don't worry."

He caught her hand and clenched so hard it surprised her. The expression on his face was decidedly not amused.

"You really don't want me to be jealous, Tasha." He spoke in a low tone that all but promised bad things. "I ain't always nice when I'm angry, y' know."

His body was close, his breath caressing her face and his eyes only focused on her. A part of her mind wanted to snap at him to grow up and realize she wouldn't leave him anytime, while another part wondered…

"Are you gonna punish me for being a bad girl?"

The words left her mouth before she could stop herself from speaking and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. Clint's reaction was unexpected: his pupils widened, his whole body tensed but before he could speak, Maria's voice echoed throughout the room:

"I want everyone on the floor, now! Chop chop!"

The rest of their crew and the Asgardians slowly moved together to stand in front of the woman. Natasha took advantage of the motion to sneak out of Clint's grasp and find a place. If anyone noticed her flushed cheeks, no one mentioned it. Everyone waited in hushed silence for Maria's instructions.

Maria surveyed the group with severe eyes. "Everyone knows their part?" Most of the people readily nodded. So she barked: "In formation! We've only got five days to make this right! If one of you idiots screw this up, you're in charge of dealing with Tony for the next three months!"

Most of the guys were taller and bulkier than Maria, yet they all fell in order and followed her directives without a complaint. In the background behind his desk, Tony stuck his tongue out at Maria, who gave him the finger. Phil smiled his quietly amused smile next to him and pressed play on the boom box.

 

* * *

 

It was almost too easy to convince her parents to let her sleep over at friends' house on Friday. She supposed the fact it was a Friday _and_ her birthday helped. When they asked her to say hello to Bobbi for them, she didn't bother correcting their assumption the stupid blonde would be there. The crew didn't know Friday was her birthday – and would probably give her hell for not telling her, especially Clint – but she didn't want it to be any different from another.

So Friday morning dawned, she went to school, lied to her parents, headed to the warehouse, joined Asgard and SHIELD assembled under the AVENGERS crew flag in Phil's mini-van and ignored the knot in her stomach as they drove off to their competition site.

At first, Natasha had been under the impression that crews and battles had no rules in particular; just dance and earn the public and jury's approbation. The training up till Friday night proved her wrong. Although they were more flexible than classical dance, there were still rules, regulations, and traditions. For a long time, crews had seven or eight guys and just one girl. The girls went against each other and left the rest of the demonstration to the guys. The gender mattered less nowadays, but the rules concerning music were still the same to the competing crews: neither had any idea what they'd be dancing to. It was then that Natasha realized why Maria never used the same twice.

At first she had assumed they were trying different styles and would settle on something eventually, but as Clint explained later, the strength of a group was its ability to adapt and show off. Higher in the competition they would be allowed to introduce their own show with their own music and a well-worked choreography, but in the meantime, they'd have to prove they were worthy getting there through semi-improvisation. Rhythm and concentration were key tonight. Everything they had learned would either be useful or useless, depending on what the DJ put on, he had said, and she believed him.

Now, they were standing together on a plastic mat, waiting for their adversaries –a crew named the Barakudas –to settle. Ten boys and two girls, all well-muscled and dressed in dark blue-greenish clothes and silvery ornaments. They looked self-confident enough as they stood together and waved – quite rudely, she might add – to them. The Avengers growled – the loudest were the Warriors Three – and showed off their muscles. Even Sif and Maria hissed. They were all caught in the moment and ready to jump.

" _Ladies and gents, can you feel the tension tonight?_ " the DJ –who was not Tony –announced. The public responded enthusiastically, cheering and booing and shouting names. Natasha knew Steve was somewhere among them. He had promised to come over to watch them, but she was more afraid he'd get crushed by the crowd. Although the kid had gained a little weight and muscle after he started exercising to keep a powerful voice, he was still tiny.

Clint's hand brushed her shoulder, a gentle reminder that her place was on stage now. He grinned at her one last time before the first song blasted through the speakers:

_Show off that body you got,_

_You got that dance floor so hot,_

_You're working that, you twerkin' that,_

_You're checking that, like a clock._

The Barakudas made the first move as they fell in two lines; front one fell on their assets and executed hip-hop figures while the back line waved their arms to form a graceful undulation. They were synchronic, most of the time at least.

_(get up) Get up put your drinks down,_

_Don't want you all saucy your drinks out,_

_All over that your cheap blouse ain't nothing but a small any anyhow,_

_(still me) Still me I just changed the sound to the other one I had and just swapped it out,_

_(switch) Kept something in the background, 'cause you in love with the song but you're in love with the background…_

They sent three forwards to do their show; move closer to their crew. One of their talents made faces at Jasper before retreating booed and waved at them to shoo the rest away and as if responding to their move, the DJ swiftly slowed the music before letting it run again. It was their turn now.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Step Up When the Lights Go Off**

**17**

Her partners moved so suddenly Natasha nearly missed her cue.

 _C'mon let a mama work for me_  
Make a player wanna spend some money  
I don't really like spendin' money  
But if you do what you do and do it well I'ma

Thor and Heimdall had stepped forwards and demonstrated their skills on the floor. Once they were done, Loki and Clint would make a short show and it would be up to the girls. Well, to her. Maria and Sif stood in the background as Natasha showed off and stepped closer to the BARAKUDAS. At first, she had been surprised that Maria had picked her up for that move, but Sif had insisted that the red hair would be the most eye-catching. Judges wouldn't be indifferent to the aesthetic, they had assured her. At the same time, it meant Natasha had to be perfect, a balance between wild and restrained. The pressure had been overwhelming the past week, but now she moved onstage, her body remembering perfectly what she was supposed to do.

 _Show off that body you got_  
You got the dance, glow so hot  
You workin' that, you twerkin' that  
You tickin' that like a clock

She brushed a young man's chin with a smug grin, rolled her hips provocatively in front of his body, and returned to the safety of her team as the music switched into a new track.

_Money's the motivation,_

_Money's the conversation,_

_You on vacation, we gettin' paid so_

_We on paycation, I did it for the fam_

_It's whatever we had to do, it's just who I am_

Their opponent didn't waste time in returning the favor; a blonde mermaid came forward to nearly sprawl all over Clint. Natasha for sure did _not_ like it. Neither did Maria and Sif. The three women jumped in front of him and made angry figures to chase their competitor away. The girl backed off rather quickly, earning boos from the crowd and angry glares from her co-dancers.

_You can catch me kissin' my girl with both eye closed_

_Perfecting my passion, thanks for asking_

_Couldn't slow down so we had to crash it_

_You used plastic, we 'bout cash,_

_I see some people ahead that we gon' pass, yeah!_

The BARAKUDAS made a human pyramid that looked more like a gym exercise than a real dance figure. The top guy nearly fell when one of his supports flinched. The music stopped to signal the change of hand again.

_One shot, everything rides on tonight_

_Even if I've got three strikes, Ima go for it,_

_This moment, we own it_

Jasper, Clint, Loki and Bruce climbed on Thor and the Warriors Three and jumped off their shoulders in perfect sync. Once on the ground, they spun on their shoulders and back, distorting their bodies in harmonious angles. Natasha briefly remembered how implacable Maria had been on that move. Clint still had a bruised back from that first session, where he had contorted himself a bit _too_ much and landed flat on his back.

_And I'm not to be played with_

_Because it can get dangerous_

_See these people I ride with_

_This moment, we own it_

The music stopped; the two minutes were up. Shouts, yells, boo and acclamations effused from everywhere. The judges stood and thanked the participants. Both crews retreated, their head high and proud, fists up to welcome the support coming their way and rejecting the haters' shouts.

The AVENGERS had done a better job, if the crowd howling and gesturing rudely at the BARAKUDAS was any indication. But the proud twinkle in Coulson's eyes was the greatest assessment. The man wrapped his arm around Maria's shoulders and squeezed her biceps before releasing her. Somehow, Natasha managed to spot Steve jumping in the crowd and she couldn't remember seeing him so excited. He was jumping and waving – which was annoying the girl standing next to him, she might add – so enthusiastically she thought he might hyperventilate. The redhead would have loved to leave the scene to join him, but the crew had to return to their designated space quickly; others were waiting for their turn to show off. Once they reached their spot, Clint pulled her aside.

"By the way Natasha, didn't you forget to tell me something?"

Natasha blinked and stared at him in puzzlement. Forgotten to tell him something? What…?

"It would actually be, forget to mention something to _us_ ," Jasper interrupted. Clint stared at his friend.

"I'm her boyfriend. I come first."

"How should I know? I'm not in the bedroom with you when you're fu-"

"Shut up kids," Bruce interrupted, smiling amusingly at the sudden flush on Natasha's and Clint's face. "What we mean, Natasha, is that the SHIELD crew is truly disappointed in you."

"How so?" What had she done wrong? She wondered, more and more worried.

"We'll discuss it once we get home," Phil intervened smoothly. "Don't worry Natasha, it's nothing we can't fix."

His words did little to ease her concerns, but since no-one else seemed to make a big deal of it, she shrugged the bad feeling away. They ended up leaving the building soon after, the odds too obviously in their favor. Thor remained behind with Bruce to keep tabs on what would happen next.

The ride back was loud and chatty, and awfully long. In some twisted way, Natasha dreaded yet couldn't wait to be back to the warehouse. Whatever issue Clint had raised, everyone seemed concerned and vexed about it. The crew was in high spirits from the competition but would sometimes sneak unsubtle glances in her direction, and that unnerved her terribly. In spite of being comforted with Phil's earlier words, she still hated not knowing. They finally pulled into the warehouse's yard, parked, and unloaded the little equipment they had brought from the minivan. Thirty minutes later they were finally done and all headed inside. That was when Phil pulled her aside so that she, Clint and he were the only one left outside.

"Natasha, I need you to understand something: when we agreed to let you in the crew, we expected trust and honesty from you." _Oh God_ , she thought, _I messed up somehow and now I'll be on probation or kicked out of the team_. She prayed to every deity she knew that she was wrong. She had just found the substitute family she needed; she couldn't get rejected now! Her worry must have showed, for Coulson chuckled in amusement. "No need to blanch like that, Natasha. Like I said, it's nothing that cannot be solved. Follow me."

Easier said than done; her feet all of a sudden weighed a thousand pounds and worry clouded her chest… Natasha couldn't figure out what she had done wrong. Something about their trust? She hadn't betrayed them, or she didn't think so. What if she had said something to the wrong person? But it couldn't be, she hadn't been speaking with anyone else out of the crew…

Coulson pushed the living room door open and turned on the lights.

" _Happy birthday!"_

Natasha blinked. The whole crew, plus Pepper and Tony, were there, standing in front of a large table bearing paper glasses and drinks. Balloons and paper streamers had been spread around, the floor was covered with glitter, and a huge cake was waiting in the corner to be eaten. She stood there, jaw low and staring in disbelief. In spite of all the time they spent in the training room, they had still managed a surprise party?

The redhead stared at Coulson, worried and hopeful:

"So…I'm not getting kicked out?"

The smug smile on the man's face vanished, suddenly replaced by concern. She realized he had not thought she would take the trickery so hard and looked quite apologetic and subbed about it. Before he could utter a word though, Jasper, who had moved forwards to greet her, slammed a hand hard over her shoulder, kicking her out of her thoughts.

"Bet you didn't see that one coming!"

She definitely hadn't. Natasha turned towards Clint, her throat tight and unable to speak, but her eyes were shining with gratefulness. Her boyfriend smiled sheepishly in return.

"Happy birthday, Tasha!"

* * *

Clint fumbled with the handle and pushed the door opened. Natasha followed him closely, laughing hysterically. The adrenaline from the competition still pumping in her veins and in spite of the impromptu birthday party, she wasn't tired at all. Tony and Pepper (well, mostly Pepper) had outdone themselves with the preparations and balloons. The music was good and there wasn't too much alcohol (except for the punch that Tony had seen fit to spike with vodka), no birthday present, and Maria had joined Gillian to bed at eleven and Phil had left around one to work on a project, but for Natasha, this had been the best birthday party, hands down ever.

Around two thirty, most guests had left or fallen asleep in a corner of the room – Steve was drooling, hand still clenched on his drink and leaning back to back with Loki, much to Sif's amusement – and Natasha had followed her boyfriend back to his room. In her mind, a good make-out session was the perfect way to end the day.

"You had fun?" he asked, backing her against the wall once the door was closed. Natasha cupped his cheeks and kissed him lightly once, twice before whispering:

"Time of my life."

He kissed her more insistently before pulling her shirt over her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and added: "But the suspense before? That was plain mean."

Clint grinned and leaned his forehead against hers. "You're the sneakiest person here, we had to throw you off scent." He started walking backwards, forcing her to follow his steps. "I'll make it up to you."

Her knee hit the border of the mattress and Natasha let herself fall back, giggling. Clint fell over her and used his elbows to prevent him from crushing her while he assaulted her mouth. Natasha pulled his shirt off and caressed his sides and lower back. She then bit that sensitive spot in the crick of his neck, and he let out an appreciative _mmmmh_ ing noise before tensing, then immediately retaliating by pulling her hair so her head would tip back and kissing her senseless. Hands trailed over her chest and she rubbed her thigh at just the right place, hard enough to make him groan. His hips reflexively jerked forwards and Natasha froze, taking in their position. He had her pinned underneath him, on his bed. The slow, heavy panting told her he was still a bit tipsy and the hardening bulge in his pants definitively aroused. But contrary to what Jasper had suggested earlier, they had yet to cross that line.

"Cl –" she started, but was unable to finish.

The intensity in his eyes was frightening and…thrilling. Her senses were on fire and she was way too aware of the finger training down her arm. Heat radiated from his bare chest and she found it very hard to think. Clint restrained his impulses skillfully, she had to admit, but never made it a secret he wanted to sleep with her in the not-so-innocent way. They had come close before, during a few of their heavy make-out sessions. Those times he had driven her crazy, left her boneless with nothing else but his mouth on her breasts and his fingers teasing and toying with the apex of her thighs. And after the few times she had driven _him_ over the edge, she wanted to give – and get – more. It wouldn't be the first time she'd wonder how it would feel, _him_ sliding inside…

"Tasha," he murmured, interrupting her thoughts. His hand trailed the line from her cheek down to her jaw, down her neck, and down again till his fingers tugged at the button of her pants. "May I?"

He had promised her he wouldn't try anything without her full consent, so he _always_ asked. Natasha had once or twice been tempted to let him have his way with her, but it never felt _right_. Perhaps she was still a bit too upright, too unsure, too…

Clint nibbled her lower lip and suddenly, nothing mattered aside from the warm hands seeking her skin, his eyes boring into hers, his forehead gently resting against hers. Natasha prided herself of being independent. The crew had become an important part of her life and Clint… Clint was indescribable. He lowered his head again, rested his cheek against hers before nipping at the curve of her neck. He wanted her and she…wanted him.

Oh fuck, she was screwed anyway, so she cupped his face between her hands and kissed him fiercely in response.

* * *

Maria sighed for the umpteenth time. A little before three, she had woken up to go to the bathroom and on her way back, heard funny noises coming from Clint's bedroom. At first, she had wondered what was going on in there, but her wondering was cut short when she heard a clear female whimper followed by a mantra of ' _Clint'_ and ' _ohmyfuckyesyesyes'_. _Seems like Clint had managed to convince his girlfriend that it was time to cross the last line,_ she thought with a smirk, and it was about damn time, too. Although she did hope Gillian wouldn't wake up and ask questions she had no desire to answer.

Now, she was stuck in her room listening at her neighbor getting at it for the third or fourth round. That kid had stamina for sure and Natasha's vocals were definitely in full use. Well, stamina plus the years Clint had wanted her… She shook her head in amazement; they'd both had a very long day and night, how could they still have energy to burn?

The clock hit four and Maria knew she wouldn't get back to sleep for a while. She figured she might as well go downstairs and catch up some reading she needed to do for school – why her English teacher felt it was necessary she read Melville she'd never know, that man was boring as hell. Perhaps he'd bore her to sleep, she thought with a smirk. On her way to the study, she was surprised to see light under Coulson's door. _Was he working at this unholy hour?_ she wondered before knocking.

"Phil? You're in here?"

The man was indeed there, head down on the desk, resting on crossed arms, his laptop on standby. Maria snorted; he must have fallen asleep after a momentary pause. The position must hurt though; his neck would ache in the morning. She took pity on him and shook his shoulder. A couple of moments later, the former dancer opened his eyes painfully.

"Muah?" was his mumble upon waking up. The young woman bit back a smirk at his completely off-the-game face and sleepy eyes. "Whasatmit?"

"I'm assuming you're asking the time, which is four-thirty. You've fallen asleep on a project again; it's not healthy, Phil."

"Myea, yeah, got in-" - he yawned deeply - "-spired with the animation t'night." The young woman stared at him fondly, exactly like when Gillian or Clint did something stupid, but cute. He didn't dwell on it and shut his laptop down, not wanting the woman he liked to compare him to an overenthusiastic workaholic. Which he kinda was already, but that was beside the point. Having awakened enough to be coherent, he asked in turn: "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't go back to sleep." Maria shrugged. "Clint got inspired too and is teaching Natasha the horizontal tango. She's enjoying it a little too much for my ears. Thank God Lily can sleep through the apocalypse."

Phil winced in sympathy. "Not sure I wanted to know that much. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

Maria looked pensive, then relieved. "That's probably a good idea," she replied thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to put them on answering-Gillian's-awkward-questions duty for the next two months, too."

He chuckled. "Just make sure it doesn't backfire on you. Clint might enjoy explaining things a little bit too much and Nat is good at evading questions."

"Whatever," She replied with a shrug. "I'm going to make some tea. Want a cup?"

"Sure. Decaf?"

"Naturally. It's four in the morning, Phil."

He followed her to the kitchen and pulled out the mugs and tea while she heated water. They then moved to the table in comfortable silence. The living room was still occupied by those who had fallen asleep there, and would need a serious cleaning tomorrow. Maria was still pondering over who would be in charge of what - Thor and his obscenely-muscled trio of friends on furniture duty, Jasper and Tony on garbage and the rest brooms and sponges, it shouldn't take over an hour – when Phil interrupted her thoughts:

"So, I guess we surprised Natasha well."

Maria interrupted her musings and gave him a Look. He shrugged, silently admitting that was not what he had in mind. She kept staring until he looked away. Something was bothering him, she could tell, and it unsettled her that he wouldn't speak his mind, especially with her.

"Phil, you know you can –"she started, only to be cut off.

> "Look, I know you said you weren't ready for anything and I understand if you refuse," Coulson blurted; feeling his heartbeat pounding so hard it echoed in his ears. "But may I take you out for dinner sometime? Just the two of us?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copying/Pasting a new chapter makes my laptop going slow…am I the only one? Anyway, here’s a new chapter :) hope you’ll enjoy it ^^

**Step Up When the Lights Go Off**

**17**

 

 

Natasha was drowning in bliss. There was no other way to put it. Her past night with Clint had been amazing (he was goddamn good in bed, very caring considering it was her first time) and the whole thing was totally worth the pointed looks from Maria in the morning. The rest of the crew – save for Coulson who, other than pulling the two of them over to the side to give them a quick talk, didn’t seem to give a damn – wasn’t so subtle and kept sending them smug stares. Even Steve had overcome his usual shyness and grinned at her in amusement.

 

Returning to her parents’ house – house, not home; the warehouse and Clint were her home now – had never felt more of a chore. She had not wanted to get out of Clint’s arms in the first place, had not wanted to go back there, feeling her parents would know what she had done and ground her for months. But she had gotten up, helped clean the remnants of the previous night’s party, and climbed in the car with Maria. Natasha was still daydreaming about the past night when the other woman interrupted her thoughts rather rudely.

 

“Put on the music.”

Assuming she was talking about the radio, Natasha reached for the volume knob.

 

“Next time you and Clint have sex, put on the music.” Maria corrected. “He’s got enough loud CDs to cover the noise.”

 

The redhead felt her cheeks redden up to her ears. She also suspected the brunette had another aim in mind, which was confirmed with the next deadpan question: “Did you use protection?”

 

“Are you going to give me the ‘Talk’?” Natasha asked in turn, and Maria sent her the Look. She sighed in defeat. “Yeah, we had condoms.”

 

“I hope he didn’t force himself on you.”

 

Natasha glared at her; all embarrassment forgotten. “Clint would _never_ …”

 

“You were both a little tipsy,” Maria reminded her. “I just wanted to make sure everything was consensual.”

 

“I was more than willing,” she countered. “I thought you heard us just fine.”

 

The corners of Maria’s mouth twitched, which was all the answer Natasha needed, before her face turned serious again. “I also want to let you know that if you ever need to talk about _that,_ I am here. For whatever reason. I know you’re old enough and responsible enough but if you and Clint have a falling out, I don’t want you to feel we will automatically side with Clint and leave you alone.”

 

The redhead frowned. She hadn’t thought of that option, but it was nice to hear it from Maria.

 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she replied, and returned to contemplating the neighborhood and drift again.

 

* * *

 

 

“You weren’t at Bobbi’s house yesterday.”

 

Natasha blinked and stared at her mother. The woman was giving her that expecting gaze of hers, the one she kept for whenever she felt disappointed in Natasha. The fact that her father was in the same room, pretending to read a newspaper but clearly eavesdropping was enough to prove Natasha right: They would grill her till she confessed to everything she did the previous night.

 

“We called her and she said you two weren’t friends anymore.”

 

“I was at a friend’s house,” she replied calmly. “You just assumed it was Bobbi’s. Why did you call anyway? Couldn’t you have texted me or something? I have a cell phone, you know.”

 

Her mother looked startled. “You have a cell phone?”

Natasha stared her straight in the eye. Was her mother serious?

 

“You bought it two years ago for my birthday. It must be under my name in your contacts. And you didn’t answer my question, why were you calling at Bobbi’s last night?”

 

“We wanted to know if you were having fun,” her mother replied tersely. Natasha narrowed her eyes.

 

“You wanted to know more about my boyfriend. You were actually calling Mrs. Morse, weren’t you?” When her mother didn’t reply, the redhead snapped: “Why not ask _me_ straight out? At least that would have been something alike a _real_ conversation. I don’t know what you think, but we’ve been lacking those for the past few years.”

 

Both her parents stared at her in shock. She had never spoken to them so rudely before.

 

“Watch your mouth, young lady!” her father retorted, narrowing his eyes. “And don’t speak to your parents with that tone.”

 

Natasha didn’t reply but kept staring at them unapologetically. Her mother spoke up: “Mrs. Morse told me Bobbi was worried about you.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “Why are you so angry? She’s a sweet and decent girl. And Mrs. Morse told me she was quite upset lately. Did you two had an argum-”

 

“She’s a decent bitch, that’s what she is,” Natasha muttered before she could hold it back. Both her parents looked scandalized. The redhead realized she may have been a little too influenced by the crew; they couldn’t care less if she expressed her deepest thoughts by swearing.

 

“Natasha!”

 

“She was sleeping with my boyfriend!” Natasha was on the verge of screaming. “That’s why we broke up, by the way.”

 

“That is no excuse to be so rude!”

 

“Mom, you find out Dad is cheating on you with the girl you think is your best friend. Would you really feel like putting up a smile for her?”

 

Her father looked scandalized she would use him as an example, but at least her mother shut her mouth.

 

“And when can we meet your new friends then?” her father asked, deciding that changing subjects was better for now. Natasha shrugged.

 

“They all have busy schedules. And I don’t think I need your approval.”

 

“So we would disapprove of them,” her father said, reading the unspoken.

 

“You aren’t open-minded enough,” She muttered, thinking of Maria and Gillian. God forbid, having a baby at fourteen! Or Tony. A DJ? What was going through her mind! And then Clint, the school trouble-maker, the guy who loved her (and the guy she loved). No way, that would never work. And she’d skip their comments on Jasper, Coulson or even Bruce…

 

“Not open-min- all right.” Her father took a deep breath in and out. Natasha thought of apologizing, but in the end, figured it wouldn’t be much of use. She had, after all, inherited his stubbornness. “You did tell your boyfriend we were expecting to meet him sooner rather than later, correct?”

 

Oh boy…

 

“Let’s have a family lunch tomorrow. It’s a Sunday, he should be free,” Her mother chipped in gleefully.

 

Natasha made a mental check and remembered he was actually busy; he and the crew had decided to drive out to a seminar Fury was directing. When she had heard the news, Natasha had been green with envy because her parents would have never let her go.

 

“He’s taking extra classes, for the school he’s enrolling in next year,” She replied, which was close enough to the truth. Ish. Both parents raised eyebrows.

 

“On a _Sunday_?”

 

“What school is he enrolling in exactly?”

 

Natasha glared in warning before answering. “An art school. He wants to be a dancer.”

 

It seemed that the announcement was too much for them to bear. So they did what Natasha knew they’d do best: bury the uncomfortable details for a later discussion.

 

“About your career,” her father wheedled, attempting to gain a more familiar ground of conversation, “Your mother and I checked a couple of universities that would fit your –“

 

“I’m planning to enter an art school too,” she blurted out. Once again, her parents were struck speechless. “And major in dance.”

 

“A dance-“ her mother’s face was flashing the brightest, most indignant red she had ever seen. “Natasha, are you out of your _mind_?”

 

“I know it’s crazy, but I really love dancing and I think I have a decent chance in building a career in it,” she protested, wondering if it was a good time to mention Fury’s offer. Given their face, that might need to wait. “You want me to major in something marketable, right? Well this is-”

 

“This is… _insane_! Natasha, we indulged your hobby for ballet, we were not expecting you to take this so seriously.”

 

The redhead froze. A hobby? They thought dance was _just_ a hobby for her?

 

“Well, isn’t it?”

 

Apparently she had thought that out loud. Both parents were looking expectantly at her, so she decided to just jump into it. “No it isn’t. I’ve thought about it and I know people who could help me get into a good-“

 

“Really?” her father cut, annoyed. “I assume someone put this insane idea in your mind, perhaps one of your new _friends_? The last time I saw you dance…”

 

“The last time you saw me dance was when I wasn’t old enough to think about what I wanted to do,” Natasha cut dryly, her fists tightening under the table. She knew it would be hard to talk to her parents, but she thought she’d had better control of the situation. “And my friends have nothing to do with my choices!”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Her mother said. “If Mrs. Morse declared those people unsuitable for you, I strongly advise you to stop seeing them. Bobbi perhaps made a mistake, but I am sure she is terribly sorry for it. Who knows if James forced her into it?” Natasha remembered the smug glint in the blonde’s eyes and sincerely doubted she was forced into anything. “And I agree with your father; you might be good, but there are many more talented girls and boys out there, darling. I’m sorry, but you don’t stand a chance.”

 

Blood drained from her face. How would they know?

 

“How would you know? You never bothered showing up at any of my recitals since I was eight!”

 

“Natasha, you have to come down from your little cloud and face the truths of life. But since you are so bent on believing that, you are grounded for the week.”

 

 

* * *

 

Far later in the afternoon, Natasha was working on an essay that was due in two weeks. Two weeks was far ahead, but she needed to keep busy. After having a whirlwind of a week and learning to deal with her homework crazy-fast, she was left with nothing to do but reading or planning her homework ahead. Her parents had confiscated her cell phone and she just had time to send a Facebook message to Clint before they took her laptop. Hopefully she could pretend needing Google for some research and check if she had an answer. Worst case scenario, she’d see them at school Monday.

 

Deep in her thoughts, she nearly missed the door opening and her father stepping inside her bedroom. He had a solemn expression on his face.

 

“We need you to know things about your boyfriend.”

 

The redhead didn’t bother turning around. She had quite an idea of what he was about to say. Her parents hated not knowing what she was up to, and just as her mother knew the best gossip in town – a certain blonde busybody named Mrs. Morse - her father had a good relationship with the local police.

 

“Clint Barton has a criminal record. He was arrested for petty theft and murder in the first degree - of his older brother.  He also belonged to a gang named the Chitauris and, according to my contact, is still in touch with them.”

 

Natasha seriously doubted that last part, since Clint hated the leader with passion. She kept writing, although she gritted her teeth strongly, grateful Clint had told her about his past crimes beforehand. She heard her father sigh heavily and sit on her bed.

 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but you need to be careful about the people you choose to build relationships with.” He had that patronizing tone in his voice, like she was still a six-year-old girl who knew nothing about life. She hated it. “I understand if you want to stay away from school a few days…”

 

She slammed her pen on her desk and turned around to face him, keeping an unreadable mask on her face.

 

“Clint told me everything,” She replied evenly. “I know exactly what kind of people I am getting involved with. Believe it or not, they are good people.”

 

Mr. Romanoff blinked. He obviously hadn’t expected her to be aware of the situation. She went on carelessly:

 

“I know what you are going to say. They are criminals, they have shady connections, and I should stop seeing them because they are not socially acceptable like Morse or Barnes are. But let me tell you something, _father_ ,” she hissed, so angrily the man tensed. “Socially respected people are liars and backstabbers. Those criminals with shady connections offered me more than just friendship. They gave me a place to stay when I was nearly raped because James was too drunk to drive me back after groping me and Bobbi didn’t care whether I left her goddamn party because she was too busy flirting with an asshole. They took care of me while you were away. They have their own secrets, they live in a different world and you know what? I’d rather live in that world than stay with a bunch of hypocrites and put up with fake smiles and whispers behind my back.” Her father had paled during her discourse, and she felt slightly guilty and victorious at the same time. It was a horrible feeling. Her voice hadn’t even raised or lowered a notch, which she was proud of. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have homework to do.”

 

She returned to her essay and ignored her father as he left the room, a little more dazed than before. Perhaps she shouldn’t have dropped the bomb so abruptly earlier, but she thought it was time for them to realize that she was old enough to make her own decisions, may they be right or wrong.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay again…hope this chapter will make up for the time ^^”   
> Enjoy!

**Step Up When the Lights Go Off**

**19**

 

Diana Romanoff was enjoying a cup of tea when the doorbell rang.  It was the middle of Sunday afternoon and her husband was gone for the day, and Diana had hoped she and Natasha could share some ‘girls’ time’ but her daughter had locked herself in her bedroom. The past week, she had gone quiet and closed up and distant, and Diana had no idea what to do. She didn’t recognize her sweet little girl anymore.

With a heavy sigh, she put down her tea and stood to answer the door. She was surprised by what she found.

A teenager –a boy about Natasha’s age- was standing on their threshold.  He was dressed in a black sleeveless T-shirt and a worn out pair of jeans. His shoes weren’t in a great shape either.  He didn’t appear particularly handsome, she thought, but there was something in those blue – were they blue? grey? green? golden? A mixture of all? – eyes that drew all the attention to them.  Given the size and shape of the muscles of his arms, he must work out – a lot.

“Hi, I’m at the Romanoffs’, right?” The woman nodded and was about to say _very firmly_ that their family did not buy anything to help young people get on with their underground activities when he added: “Name’s Clint Barton, I’m here for Tasha.  Sorry, Natasha,” He corrected quickly.

The nickname surprised her – her daughter didn’t do nicknames - but Diana nodded in acceptance. At first, she would have shuddered with horror at the thought of her darling spending time with street kids – this one was obviously one, look at his clothing!  Then she remembered Natasha mentioning her parents’ so called lack of open-mindedness and Diana admitted that the young man’s appearance was not up to her standards.  Her daughter had either lost her mind or seen something in him that had pushed her away from parental advice.

“Are you a… an _acquaintance_ of hers?”

The teenager shrugged. “Y’could say that. May I see her?”

“I’m afraid Natasha’s grounded for the week.”

He frowned. “Grounded? What she’s done?”

“This is none of your business, young man.” A sudden though came to her. “Are you one of those friends of hers that encouraged her into going to college – for _dance_?”

He raised an impassive eyebrow and she felt the need to recoil. Where was Mikhail when she needed him?  He would scare the lad away.  He would stare harshly and that little intruder would _run_.  But the Barton kid merely held her gaze like _she_ was the bothersome fellow.

“If I am, you’re gonna slam the door at my face?” before she could answer, he stepped in and yelled: “Hey Tasha! You there?”

Her eyes widened in shock when her daughter showed up in a flash, nearly jumped in the teenager’s arms, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him like her life was on the line.  The Barton kid held her tightly in return and buried his face in her neck, a hand in her hair.  He said something Diana didn’t understand and Natasha grimaced.

“You’re sure?” she asked and he nodded.

Diana watched the exchange with a sort of fascination, appealed and disgusted by the obvious display of feelings. They had taught her daughter better than that.

And Clint Barton…that name…She nearly choked: was that kid her so-called _boyfriend_? The one who had murdered his _brother_?

“I think you have had enough,” she said coldly. The two teenagers parted without breaking eye contact.  Barton gave her a weak smile and turned around to leave. Natasha bit her lower lip and walked back to the staircase (up to her bedroom, Diana assumed). She had been strangely docile lately, even though they had made sure to pick her up all week at school and keep her contact with those delinquents to minimum.  Mikhail had been very insistent upon that point.  He would concede that the Morse’s girl relationship with their daughter would be forever strained, but he still refused to allow Natasha to spend more time than necessary with them.

Once the door closed, Diana released a sigh.  Although he was locked outside, the presence of that delinquent bothered her; she went to check the windows and the garage back door to make sure he couldn’t come in.  The shotgun Mikhail kept under the staircase would be easily accessible anyway.  

Something slammed upstairs loudly and a soft squeal emanated from Natasha’s room.  Before she could reach the window to glance outside, a car started and left the lane, out of view of course. Diana felt a shiver ran down her spine. She suddenly had a dreadful feeling about this.

“Natasha!” she called out. “Natasha, please come down!”

No one answered. She hurried upstairs and knocked on her daughter’s door.

“Natasha, come out.” Still no answer. Diana forced herself to calm down; perhaps her daughter was ignoring her calls, perhaps she was listening to music with her earphones on. “Natasha, I’m coming in!”

Much to her surprise, the door was unlocked.  She pushed in and took in the empty bedroom.  The curtains were fluttering due to a gentle breeze – from Natasha’s slightly ajar window.  A folded letter was left on display on the desk, stuck under a DVD and in that moment, Diana Romanoff felt her heart break.

 

* * *

 

 

From the moment Phil laid his eyes on Clint, he knew the kid would be the death of him.

He still remembered the wary stares, the blatant distrust in his eyes; the way the young teenager would glare and test him.  That had been the first time his patience had been really challenged – the second time would have been with Maria, but that was another story.  The stunts and troubles he put Phil through had nearly driven the man to the breaking point, but that wounded gaze, that expectation of being left behind always encouraged him to hold on.  And his efforts had paid off; Clint had become less wild, more used to company, and slowly became the son Phil never had.

Then came the time of the crew.  To his surprise, Clint had gotten involved and improved in a matter of weeks, but had also taken to showing off his uncanny skills in odd locations and dangerous platforms.  The one time Phil had caught him practicing backflips on the top gate of the roof had nearly given him a heart attack.  The crew members had forced him to practice in the room with the others, and while Clint was somewhat an adrenaline junkie, he did acquiesce after a while.

When Clint brought Barbara Morse back, Phil could already predict the situation would end in tears.  Clint had been pinning for a while for a redhead named Natasha but couldn’t gather the guts to ask her out – although later he learned she already had a boyfriend – and the blonde clearly didn’t belong to their world.  It had ended three months later indeed, with him having to threaten to drag the girl to court for defamation and disrespect of private life.  How she had found out about Clint’s and Maria’s past through neglectful police officers still baffled him.  Thankfully the girl had dropped the matter when her parents got involved.

And at last, Clint brought back the Natasha Romanoff.  Unlike Bobbi, she immediately bonded with the team and was aware of the dynamics running around.  She easily accepted the crew’s wariness and did her best to live up to people’s expectations.  Up until recently, Phil hadn’t quite understood her motivations.  She was from a good social background, financially secure, a straight-A student and a perfect student in class.  The fact she was one of Bobbi Morse’s friends made even less sense.

He hadn’t realized how lonely she actually was.

The impromptu surprise party had helped him realize this and made him even more accepting of her presence.  And that’s why Clint’s latest stunt really unnerved him.  Why would he seriously kidnap his girlfriend to bring her for a more permanent stay in the warehouse?  Sure, he understood she had parental issues and at some point, he knew she would agree to work to pay for her stay, but while he had no problems lodging her, he didn’t want to have troubles with authorities _again_.

Phil sighed heavily and took another sip of his tea.

The beam on Clint’s face had melted half of his refusal. The kid was crazy about Natasha and that girl really liked him.  He wouldn’t use the term love, not yet; the word meant too much yet not enough at the same time. He would, however, bet those two were not just sinking into enthusiasm of new beginnings.  They were young, but they were in it for the long run.  Ordering the girl to return to her parents now would break those two’s hearts.

Why did Clint always put him in a difficult position?

His thoughts were interrupted by an opening door, and his second headache stepped in.

He wouldn’t call Maria a headache, actually; it was more like a very complicated person who needed to be handled with extreme delicacy. And he, quite frankly, had not been very delicate lately.

“The lovebirds are being lovebirds,” she commented blithely, and Phil understood she was seeking refuge in his office to avoid listening to the two subjects of his first headache making out. Or doing, y’know, _other things_.  Whatever.  He didn’t want to know.  Still, he was cheering inside at the thought that Maria would still consider this place safe.

“Clint and I need to have a little talk anyway,” he replied eventually.

“About Natasha’s stay?” she asked and he nodded. “Are you going to make this permanent?”

“I can’t and I won’t” he replied sternly. “I like Natasha and I have no problem with her staying when her parents are away, but no matter what, they are still her parents.  It’s a matter between her and her parents and we are not to interfere.” He sighed again. “Plus, we have legal altercations to consider.  This could end very badly if her parents try to sue us for kidnapping.  Clint could be arrested.  Again.”

Maria dropped onto his couch, made herself comfortable, and closed her eyes.  Phil allowed himself a few moments to contemplate her.  She hadn’t agreed to his request of a date. Or, actually, she hadn’t answered at all.  She had just stood up, dropped her mug back in the sink, and retreated to her room. And avoided him since then.

“I asked Pepper if she was free next Friday to babysit Gillian,” Maria suddenly spoke up. Phil blinked in surprise at her sudden declaration but had no time to ponder over it as she continued: “If you still want to take me out that will be the only spare time I have.”

Maria stood up and walked – methodically, controlled – out of the room. Phil kept staring at the spot she had been sitting on the couch, in shock. Then slowly, very slowly, a happy grin grew over his face.

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha hummed as Clint pulled her into another kiss.  They were making out on his odd round-shaped bed, simply enjoying each other’s presence for the time being.

“Don’t wan’ you t’leave,” he muttered against her lips before wrapping his arms around her waist to bring her over his chest.

Natasha closed her eyes and let him cuddle. She knew the split second decision she had made was childish and immature, but she needed the distance.  Her parents needed the distance.  After all, she just wanted to see Clint again.  Had they been more flexible, perhaps things would be different…

 

“What are you thinkin’ of?” he whispered. She buried her face in his neck and tightened her grip over his shirt.

“Stuff. How stupid people are. How stupid I am. I have to go back; they’re just trying to look after me in their own way."

“Y’can stay here, y’know,” he said, but his voice sounded more resigned than convincing. They both knew Phil wouldn’t allow their stunt to last over a few days.

“I left them a note,” she whispered. “And a copy of one of our rehearsals. I hope they’ll watch it. I hope it’ll make them understand a bit.”

Clint frowned. “Which one?”

“From before the first round. I took it to make sure to remember Maria’s instructions about…” her voice trailed off and she suddenly groaned. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?”

“I forgot Maria kept yelling at me in that one. It wasn’t a good day.” She hid her face back in his chest. “I sucked.”

Her boyfriend laughed and rubbed her back soothingly. “Even on a bad day, y’ were doing great. Sif was green last time she saw you, ‘specially when we told her you’ve been doin’ this for just a couple of months, and she’s been working for years.  Yer catching up real fast; it’s what Fury saw.  All of us see it too.  Y’live to dance, sweetheart, just like I do.”

Natasha snorted.

“I really hope my parents see it too.” She rolled on her side and hoisted herself on her elbow to look at him. “Speaking of which, wanna go and do a few routines? I did come back to dance, not laze around.”  Ignoring Clint’s look of mock horror, Natasha threw him a cheeky wink and sashayed out of the room.

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so, SO sorry for the lateness. I'll try to update faster next time..  
> And thank you for the comments ^^"

19

 

“Stop right there!” Maria shouted and Gillian, today’s little DJ, pressed the stop button. The dancers quit all at once and glanced at their unofficial choreographer, mildly frustrated, annoyed, or anxious by her intervention. “This isn’t going to work. The balance was nice the first time but this?” she shook her head. “That’s it. Freestyle. You all get twenty minutes to make up something. Pair up in groups of three or four and let your ideas flow. We’ll see in what order we’ll set them up.”

 

Her snappy tone left everyone surprised, but no one complained when she walked away to take a generous gulp of water from her bottle. Jasper glanced at them and whispered:

“What’s up with her?”

Clint shrugged. “She’s reachin’ her breakin’ point. Fury’s been on her back for some reason and overloadin’ her with work. Add the school homework and the pressure…” He frowned. “I really hope her date with Phil will help her relax a bit.”

 

“You said _date_?” Jasper gasped in realization. “So _she’s_ Coulson’s secret crush?”

 

“C’mon, don’ tell me y’never noticed th’way he looks at her?”

 

Given the look on the teen’s face, he hadn’t.

 

“For someone who wanted to become a spy in his, ah, _formative years_ ,” Rhodey teased, “you do lack insight.”

 

They all laughed at his expense, but when the door of the repetition room opened, they all fell quiet. Fury’s entrances tended to have that effect, no matter where he went.

 

“Mr. Fury! How nice of you to join us,” Clint greeted uneasily. The black man regarded him for a moment, eyebrow raised just the littlest bit, letting him know he was not the reason for his visit, before transferring his attention to Natasha.

 

“May I borrow Miss Romanoff for a moment?” Given the tone of his voice, it didn’t sound like a question, but a demand. Natasha glanced at Maria, simply out of habit, who shrugged in return: this was up to her.

 

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered to Clint before following the headmaster out of the room. They didn’t venture very far, remaining in the corridor right outside the door. Natasha braced herself for whatever was to come. That man was downright scary when he stared with his single eye, almost as if he could see straight into her soul. She had yet to ask how he’d lost his other one and absently made a side note to ask Clint later.

 

“Let’s get straight to the point. Have you made a decision regarding entering my school?”

 

She felt vaguely relieved at the question, although she should have expected it. “I’d very like to try, sir.”

 

Fury didn’t quite smile (to be completely honest, she wasn’t sure he knew how to) and thrust some sheets of paper and what looked like a brochure at her. “There’s an audition on the seventeenth next month. Send in the papers and be there on time.”

 

She hesitantly contemplated the paper between her hands before looking back up at Fury.

 

“This is your choice to make,” Fury said. “You are of legal age now, and no one can or will decide for you. Have a good day, Miss Romanoff.”

 

He turned around and left in silence. Her choice, eh? Her fingers tightened around the sheets with determination. She would take the audition and pass the entrance exam. She would go and earn her place. She hadn’t worked so hard and gone so far to give up now.

 

 

Even though she had spent a lot of time at the warehouse, Natasha had never noticed the little pathway at the back of the building. She had never realized the long space hidden behind a bunch of trees. So when Clint led her in what appeared to be an abandoned open-air shooting range, she was startled.

 

“What is this place?” she asked with a hint of curiosity. “Clint?”

 

The teenager headed wordlessly to an old cabin in the far end and unlocked it. It was like a gardener’s hunt, filled with shovels and rakes and other tools. Hidden deeply among them, a black leather-like case. Clint retrieved it, looking uneasy. He pulled out a small key from his pocked and opened it carefully.

 

“You asked me awhile ago,” he started, and Natasha noticed his hands were trembling as he opened the case. “If I could show you how I shoot.”

 

The redhead suddenly stilled in understanding. In the box, a dismantled bow was carefully wrapped in towels and old newspapers.

 

“Clint, you don’t have to,” she said. She hadn’t known at the time, hadn’t understood what holding his favorite weapon meant to him. It was the reminder of the night he’d killed his brother, and she didn’t know if he could handle it.

 

“I’ve been thinking for awhile ‘bout it; I think it’s time I give it a try again,” he added, as he restrung his bow with practiced ease. His eyes were raw with wariness and fear, but at the same time, she spotted a hint of longing. A weak smile grew over his face. “And you’re just the excuse I need to get back at it.”

 

“Clint…” she started again, but quieted when he rose.

 

So Natasha just watched him test the string, pick an arrow and walk away. She watched him froze into position and inhale sharply. And just like that, just by observing his body language, his hands, his face, his increasingly uneven breathing pattern, she knew he wasn’t ready. For his sake though, she wouldn’t intervene; he would figure it out on his own soon enough.

 

Clint nocked his arrow, raised his bow and aimed at something near the sand berm. But he was too uneasy, his forehead beading with sweat, his hands trembling. Natasha briefly wondered if he was seeing his target or his brother.

 

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Clint,” she said again, not wanting him to shoot on her behalf.

 

He didn’t move at first, even though she knew he had heard her. She admired his stubbornness, the way his arms held on even though they couldn’t move. Eventually, he lowered the bow without firing the arrow.

 

“I can’t do it,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Tash, I can’t.”

 

“It’s all right,” she said immediately, stepping closer and leaning a hand on his shoulder.

 

Clint shrugged and put down his stuff. He didn’t need to say it, but she saw the utter disappointment in his eyes. He needed to pick up that bow again, sooner or later. He looked so defeated, she wanted to take him in her arms and never let him go. But she didn’t have the opportunity. Their names were called from the general direction of the warehouse – she recognized Jasper’s voice - and shouted an affirmative to the sky.

 

A few seconds later, crunching gravel could be heard, and when the breathless teen appeared, he gasped, “Better get your asses back home fast; the cops and your parents are here, Natasha!”

 

 

The moment he spotted the police car as well as an unknown vehicle enter the yard, Phil had readied himself for battle and went downstairs to welcome them. Of course, he had no doubt the couple he did not recognize were Natasha’s parents, but he also felt relieved when officers Melinda May and Grant Ward stepped out of their car. May and Ward were the officers assigned to Clint’s case and although the teen kept careful distance from everything wearing a uniform, he accepted their presence without protesting too much. Phil even suspected the kid enjoyed pissing Ward off and testing May’s limits. The woman had the same impassible face while her partner’s temper often got the best of him, which made them ideal targets for Clint.

 

“Officers May, Ward,” he greeted when he opened the door. The two nodded back amiably. “Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff I assume?”

 

“You would assume right, Mr…?” Mister Romanoff said, with clear disdain for the man in front of him dripping from his voice. He was a well-built man, somehow towering over Phil and Phil had no doubt he impressed people on a daily basis. Unfortunately, Phil also had to deal on a regular basis with Fury, so was not intimidated at the least.

 

“Philip Coulson,” he replied, stepping aside to let them in. “Are you here to pick up Natasha?”

 

“Where is my daughter?” Mrs. Romanoff shrieked, somewhat torn between utterly angry and utterly upset. Her husband supported her query with a dark glare. Taking their indignation as a positive answer, Coulson turned next towards the officers.

 

“And you are here for…?”

 

“We need to talk to Clint,” Ward said, his tone clearly indicating how _delighted_ he was to be here.

 

“About Lucas,” May added in what was supposed to be a neutral voice. So their visit was not completely related to Natasha’s flight from her parents, Phil thought with relief.

 

At the same moment, the front door opened again and Clint, Natasha, and Jasper entered. The two formers were holding hands and the latter was caught between worry and glee –finally some drama unfolding, but also trouble on the horizon – gossip fodder for the next month. Next to Tony, Sitwell had to be the biggest gossip on the crew.

 

“Clint, go with May and Ward. You know the way,” Phil ordered before anyone else could talk. “Jasper, come with me. We need to talk about that improv of yours. Natasha, you know your way around.”

 

“We can settle this here,” she cut briskly, crossing her arms in an attempt at adult defiance, a murderous glare addressed at her parents. Phil noted with vague amusement that while the girl had mostly inherited her mother’s features (and her hair), that particular expression _definitely_ came from her father.

 

He glanced one last time at Jasper, who looked ready to protest at being told to leave, but who, of course, knew better than to argue with him and followed wordlessly. Clint gave Natasha a provocative peck on the lips – to her parents’ indignation and (judging by the twitch of May’s lips) the officers’ hidden amusement – before motioning to them to follow.

 

Natasha waited until they were alone in the main corridor to address her parents directly. “Did you come here to start a mess? Because that’s petty, even for you.”

 

Her parents chose to ignore her.

 

“Your mother and I have talked,” Mikhail Romanoff began, his brow creasing and his voice leaving no room for interjection. For a long time, Natasha had desperately tried not to make that frown appear on his face. Now, she realized she really didn’t care. “We concluded we need a change of scenery. I was offered a position in Texas. I decided to accept.”

 

The teenager felt her blood froze. They weren’t saying what she thought they were saying, were they?

 

“It’s a good opportunity to start over,” her mother added. “We won’t be traveling around the world so much anymore and you can meet new people there.”

 

Her parents’ faces bore the same identical expression. They were ready to move, and they wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooorry for the wait -.-“ At least this story had been entirely written (3 chapters left after this one) and I’ll be updating every 3 days or so…  
> Not much more to say, so I’ll just let you read and (hopefully) enjoy the upcoming.

**Step Up When The Lights Go Off**

**20**

 

“So, what’s going on with my favorite grim officers?”Clint asked cheerfully as he closed the door behind. May and Grant rarely smiled, much to his great pleasure. He loved pulling at strings, if only to see if how far he could push them.

But the two police officers weren’t there for fun. May’s tone was all business and intense when she spoke first:

“Clint, we need you to be honest with us. When is the last time you’ve seen Lucas?” 

Clint raised an eyebrow.

“At the Heli last week, I think? Why, he did something wrong?”

“He’s been missing,”Ward replied dryly. “And his parents are worried.”

“Really? You sure he just didn’t run to Sif – I mean, Sidney? He’s at her house half of his time. And things are going steady, if y’know what I mean,”he added with a wink.

But neither laughed at his suggestion, as he more or less expected.

“His cell phone was found in a dumpster yesterday night. None of his friends know where he had disappeared. We were hoping you’d had an idea instead of expecting the worst.”

Clint’s smirk was wiped off his face. “And what is the ‘worst’?”he asked warily. “You aren’t thinking the Chitauri are…”

May and Ward exchanged glances.

“We need to consider all possibilities,”May admitted. “The Chitauri trail is just a ‘maybe’. But the more this goes, the more I expect this is the road it will take. Unless you may know anything?”

Clint bit his lower lip worriedly, but shook his head. “No ma’am,”he replied. “But I’ll look on my side, if ya don’t mind.”

“If you ever get a lead, call us,”Ward said. “You have our number.”

“On speed-dial!”Clint replied cheerfully, and waved them out of the room. A part of him was relieved their visit didn’t concern his escapade with Natasha. Another was worried that something had actually happened to Loki. If the Chitauri were back on his case…Harassing his family might not be the only thing they ended up doing. Natasha’s assault was one thing, but if they decided to step it up…

He returned to his bedroom, not quite wanting to meet with the others. Phil being Phil, he probably knew why the cops were there and Natasha’s parents…he didn’t want to meet them right away. 

He pulled out his cellphone and typed a quick _Where IS Loki hidg? Cops came to my house_ to Sif. He figured the young woman would know where her not-boyfriend had vanished to, since they both had been so tight lately.

The answer came a few minutes later.  _‘No idea. Searching for answers 2. N1 can answer.’_

Clint cursed and rubbed his face in his hand. If Sif didn’t know, then no one was likely to answer. The door opened soon after and Natasha left herself in. She looked terrible, he noticed. Hopefully her parents hadn’t decided to sue Coulson.

“So, what did they want?”he asked quietly. Natasha sighed and leaned against his shoulder.

“We’re moving out of state,”she replied. “They’re hellbent on getting out of town in three weeks. What did the officers want?”she asked afterwards. Clint shrugged.

“Loki’s gone, they don’t know where he’s been.”

Natasha straightened and glanced at him worriedly. “You don’t think he’s returned to the Chitauri, do you?”

“Returned? Not a chance. Forced back into their business? Maybe. Blackmail is something I’ve considered too. But I guess the officers have their own idea.”

“And running away?”Natasha asked again. “Like I did? I mean, maybe he wanted to be alone for a moment. Maybe he’ll return after-“

“You don’t get it!”Clint snapped and glared at her. “The Chitauri are a real gang! They drip into shady things and will do bad stuff to those who decide to leave or betray them. Loki left them, yeah, and he gave out a whole bunch of names because he was in the higher spheres. So he’s in even deeper shit that I am. He knows what he risks if he runs away unattended, and he’s not stupid enough to risk it! Look at what they nearly did to you because you’re my girlfriend – and even back then we weren’t together yet.”

“You don’t have to talk to me like that!”Natasha barked back, feeling a shiver run down her spine at the memory. “I’m sorry about Loki and I get it that you’re worried, but there’s no need to snap at me like that!”

“I convinced Loki to walk out,”he added, pain and anger in his tone. “It’s my fault if he’s in trouble now, because I fucking told him to leave them.”

“So he would have stayed with them another few years? Then what? He would have been in deeper trouble! You did what you thought was right.”

“I did it because I didn’t want to be the only one to quit,”Clint whispered. “I thought that if we were two to leave, the Chitauris wouldn’t be focusing on me.”He lowered his tone. “I’m not that good a guy, Tasha.”

Natasha sighed and wrapped her arms awkwardly around him. Maybe he had been afraid to leave alone, but what she kept in mind is that he had still walked away. But he shrugged her off and asked quietly:

“Can you leave me for a bit? I…I want to be alone.”

The request made her hide a wince, but she complied. As he’d just said, she didn’t know what he was feeling; so best let him mope now and wait until he returns better. She needed to keep her mind busy. So she headed to the dancing room and firmly decided not to leave until she was crumbling from exhaustion.

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Coulson walked in when she was in the middle of executing her usual routine, frowning heavily. When he saw her, he couldn’t mask an expression of vague surprise.

“I thought you’d left with your parents,”he said, and Natasha couldn’t decide whether he was relieved or annoyed. Maybe both. “Clint’s brooding.”

Natasha interrupted her routine and went to pick up her usual bottle of water. “He’s worried about Loki,”she explained tiredly. “And my parents figured that since we would be leaving soon, there was no point in forcing me away. They’ll probably pack my stuff while I’m still here.”

The man sighed and sat on a bench nearby. He looked older and…just _tired_ all of a sudden.

“And I assume you don’t want to follow them?”

Natasha pushed away the pang in her chest at the thought of leaving and sat next to him.

“They aren’t giving me a damn choice, Phil,”she shot back angrily. “They want me to go with them, no questions asked. They think they’re acting for my own good but…I can’t let them. Dance is what I want to do. Not legal crap, not anything else. They didn’t even take a look at the rehearsal DVD I gave them.”That was what bothered her the most, actually. “They want us gone in three weeks, by the twelfth. Fury’s test entrance is the seventeenth. Graduation is in barely two months! They couldn’t have waited then?”

She glared at the ground and then at her feet. A stray strand of hair fell down her cheek, but she didn’t push it away. She didn’t want Phil to see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“I may have a temporary solution,”he admitted, catching her immediate attention. “Fury’s school teaches summer classes and he usually recruits from among the students. The committee comes for the selection and outsiders are allowed to watch. Maria keeps the records and Tony plays the music. I can talk to Fury and ask him for an in.”He paused and added softly: “And maybe you can get your parents to come and watch you.”

An insane flower of hope blossomed inside Natasha.

“And when is the selection?”she asked, keeping her voice cool but deceiving no one.

"In two weeks. Actually, it’ll be the tenth. You’ll have to present a two-minute choreography and you’ll have a lot of competition, most of them already from Fury’s school, but if you pass, you can ask to be given a place to stay. Fury likes his teachers to be close, and since he had his eye on you for a while, he’ll probably agree to this whole thing.”

Natasha stared at him with wide open eyes. And she suddenly hugged him. “Thanks,”she whispered. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“You have talent. I’d hate to see it go to waste,”he replied instead, relaxing his shoulders a little and patting her back awkwardly. “I’ll go talk to Fury later.”

She released him, suddenly feeling awkward, and returned to practice. Coulson just gave her a bewildered look, shook his head and walked out of the room.

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Clint was at a red light when his cell phone rang.

A few days had gone by since May and Grant’s visit and his mood had gotten even worst. He’d snap at everyone, ignore Maria and Phil’s chiding and Natasha’s reproachful and hurt glares. She’d even returned to the guest room she had first occupied before becoming a semi-permanent visitor in his bed. And today, apparently, was the icing on the cake. He had made some snappy comment about something Maria said, and out of exasperation, she had sent him out to pick up Gillian at school.

_“_ _At least you_ _’_ _ll be useful,_ _”_ she had told him. _“_ _And if my daughter is crying once you two are back, there_ _’_ _ll be hell to pay._ _”_

Clint knew he was acting like an imbecile. But he was truly worried for Loki. None of his contacts or friends had heard of him, or even seen him. 

So when he recognized Loki’s number on his screen, he picked up immediately. “Loki, where the fuck are you?”he hissed. “Everyone’s been freaking out-”

“Eh…hi?”a teenager’s voice, not Loki’s at all, replied. Clint felt his heartbeat accelerate. “Sorry to bother you, I found this phone in the dumpster. You were in the emergency contacts.”

The teenager shut his eyes close and swore. If Loki had thrown his cell phone away, then he might be in bigger trouble than he expected. He’d have to call May or Grant, or even stop by the police station on the way back.

“Right thank you.”he muttered. “Do you mind if I come to pick up the phone? Where are you right now?”

At the south part of Central Park. Is that all right with you?” 

Central Park wasn’t that far away, he figured. He wasn’t too familiar with the south side, although if his memory served him correctly…Clint gritted his teeth. It was just bordering Chitauri territory. This might have been a trap, but Loki…he felt he owed Loki.

“Fine, I’ll be right there,”he replied before cutting communication.

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Maria was filling some paperwork when the first call came in. It was from the school, where the headmistress politely asked her not to forget her daughter. She frowned; vaguely worried that Clint might have had an accident. The phone was barely down that her cell ring a second time. When she picked up, a whole different person was on the other line.

“Ms. Hill? This is St. Mary’s Hospital. We brought in two young men an hour ago, and one was just identified as Clint Barton. I’m sorry, ma’am, but we need you to come in quickly. We need a legal guardian here to begin an operation. His state is critical and we aren’t sure he’ll survive the night.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There goes! Unbeta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine.   
> Read and enjoy :)

**Step Up When The Lights Go Off**

**21**

“Mr Coulson is his proxy,”Maria repeated out of reflex, not quite processing what she had just been told. The woman on the phone cleared her throat in a sign of annoyance.

“Mr Coulson is currently unreachable and you are second in the list. We need your agreement for…”

She had no idea how she managed to listen till the end and give the appropriate answers. Once the secretary hung up, she dropped the phone on the floor and sat on the nearest chair, feeling too numb. The rush of panic hadn’t reached her, not fully, yet. She was starting to feel her insides twisting sharply in worry, but she couldn’t let herself be distracted now. Maria took in a deep breath and stood up, ready to do what she was supposed to do.

To her relief, Bruce and Tony were arguing about something – science related stuff probably – in the main room. The rest were probably out training or doing homework, but she figured those two would do. She couldn’t drive in her current state, her hands were shaking too hard to have a good grip on the wheel.

“Bruce,”she ordered sharply, her voice strangely distant from her body. “Can you do me a favor and go pick up Gillian at school? The principal knows you; I think you’re on the list. Tony, do you know where Phil is?”

“Uh…sorry, nope,”the DJ replied with a shrug. He would have usually teased her on the fact she had just used his first name, but apparently he had felt that circumstances weren’t dire. “What’s going on?”

“Clint’s at the hospital,”she said, her voice still steady. “I need to go there to look over a few papers, but Phil needs to sign the final agreement.”

The two men exchanged glances. Bruce stood up and headed to the front door. Stark checked his cell phone and waited a few rings.

“No answer. Do you want me to drop you at the hospital?”

Maria nodded, suddenly too tired to speak.

“Keep trying to reach him,”she ordered, her voice unwavering. “And can you ask Pepper to keep an eye on Gillian this evening? It’s going to be a long night.”

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Natasha was out for groceries with Jasper when they got the call. They were arguing about the benefits of chocolate versus red fruits in the middle of the cereal aisle when Jasper’s cellphone rang. Seven seconds were all that was needed for his face to turn from smirking to horrified and angry. He just dropped a ‘yeah, got it’and hung up and enunciated clearly, tensely to Natasha:

“Pick up a box, whichever. We need to finish the groceries and head home _now_.”

At first, Natasha tried to question him, but his answers were clipped and short, so she didn’t insist. They went through the cash register and returned to the car. During the drive back, Natasha checked for texts. Clint had been unbearable and although she was trying, his behavior was making her angry and they couldn’t stop arguing. She hated it, though. She hated that she couldn't help him, and at the same time hated him for not seeing how upset _she_ was. Her parents were moving to Texas and if she didn’t get the job at Fury’s…she might not get to see him anymore.

She closed her eyes and breathed in gently. He didn’t deserve her anger any more than she deserved his. She just hoped they could make up and soon.

Jasper stood quiet but angry, she could tell given the tightness of his grip on the wheel. His eyes were burning with fire and frown too deep to be reassuring. Whatever had happened was bad, bad enough not to tell her. Natasha suddenly felt something big was happening, and if she was set aside for the time being, it could only mean one thing.

“Is this about Clint?”she blurted before she could stop the words. “Did something happen to him?”

He didn’t reply, which made her panic. “It’s him isn’t it? He got an accident? He ran into the Chitauri? Tell me he’s al-“

“Clint’s been hurt,”he said, speaking slowly.

Natasha tensed. The anger in Jasper’s eyes was the only thing she could focus on now.

“Define ‘hurt’,”she ordered with a shaky voice. The teen glared at the road and hissed between clenched teeth: “They say he got caught in a bad fight. Real bad. Now he’s in surgery. They don’t know if he’ll make it yet.”

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Loki opened his eyes and swore to himself. His head hurt like hell and every limb felt heavy and painful. He tried to swallow and glanced around. As he more or less expected, Thor was fast asleep at the edge of the bed, snoring softly. His mother’s handbag was sitting on a chair nearby and his father’s coat was laid on the table. Tubes hooked him to machines and he resisted the urge to rip them off. The reminder of why he was lying here slowly came back to him. Hydra and the Chitauri had made a deal. Some punk had stolen his cell phone and handed him over on a silver plate. And they had used him to call Barton and…

He tightened his fists in anger.

They had _used_ him to call Barton. And the punk who had stolen his phone had been there, had watched with eyes wide open. Loki had no doubt the punk was just a one-time tool they had hired to get back at his friend. Barton had been the one to convince him to walk out after all. The Chitauris would get revenge against the one who started it all. And make him pay…as a former member, Loki had seen victims being beaten up, but they had a particularly sadistic pleasure in breaking the other teen. Barton had held his ground well enough, but in the end…

He vaguely wondered whether it was a good thing that he’d been covered with dirt and blood and unmoving for so long to lower the gangs’guard enough for Loki to call for reinforcements and then play dead till they arrived. And then it was a ballet of red and blue and uniforms and the sterile scent of the hospital. The whole time, he had kept himself aware. Loki wasn’t weak, per say. He had muscles due to the breakdance he practiced, and a strong determination and patience. Unfortunately, he was no fighter. Fortunately, his mind made up for that. And he had well-kept every detail of each of his torturers. Now, he couldn’t wait until officers May and Ward arrived. He needed to know if Barton had survive, and to give his statement, and more.

As if answering his thoughts, the two policemen pushed the door of his room.

“We need you to tell us everything you can,”May said. Loki liked her; she was always straight to the point. A trait he appreciated in human beings.

“You better sit then, because this might take a while,”he warned, voice raspy and dry, then waited until they had pulled out their clipboards and notebooks and didn’t hold back.

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

May entered the room, leaving Ward to deal with the Odinson family. Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner were already there, waiting. The woman took a moment to evaluate them one after the other.

Hill’s face was blank of emotion, but the officer knew she was likely to shut herself in a room and scream later. Coulson was more open, having heard the news very recently. His fists clenched and unclenched under the table, a heavy, murderous storm threatening to explode across his face. Banner betrayed the most emotions, but years of anger management held him back from doing something stupid, like punching a wall. May had asked for his presence, because she knew he was, among all the residents in Coulson’s house, the most likely to keep an objective point of view. She wasn’t familiar with Romanoff, though. The redhead girl looked sad but determined, patiently waiting for them to start, her eyes fixed on her in an intense way that reminded her of Clint. She hadn’t been asked, but Coulson and Hill had insisted on her being there.

“Clint and Loki were found in the middle of Chitauri territory,” she offered after closing the door. The four hung on her words. “They had been both beaten up, but Loki’s out of the woods.”

“And what about Clint?”Maria asked, keeping the emotions at bay. They were all holding their breath, which made May feel slightly guilty.

“He’s still in surgery, so his condition is…unknown, as of right now. I’m sure a doctor will be in to tell you that,”she admitted, slightly hating herself for not being able to deliver better news. In spite of being a little shit most of the time, she secretly enjoyed the blond teenager’s spunky attitude.

Coulson and Hill exchanged glances and began an unspoken conversation. Romanoff’s lips tightened and Banner frown’s deepened.

“Have you talked to Loki yet?”Hill eventually asked.

“He’s given us all we needed to know about his tormentors. Only one person remains unknown, though. Someone stole Lucas’s phone and brought it to Hydra. He was there when Clint was beat up and apparently panicked. We assume he isn’t part of Hydra or Chitauri, unless he is one of their newest recruits.”

Coulson snorted. “Doubtful; the people they hire are first-class nutcases.”And then: “Any description?”

May pulled out her notepad even though she already had the stranger’s description memorized. “Tall teenage male, black hair, brown eyes, fit,”she recited dutifully. She hadn't had much luck with the Odinsons so far, even with Lucas’s description. “Had a beef with Barton and threw the first punch. A show-off but also a coward who ran away after realizing what happened. Odinson believes he must be a classmate who didn’t know better, given his age. We might get a sketch artist in to sit down with Lucas and try and put a face to the description. Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Clint at school?”

They exchanged glances. “A lot of people disliked him,”Bruce said. “But none would go to such length to get back at him - at least, I don’t think so.”

May handed him a notepad and a pen.

“I need you to write down every name you can think of, even if they aren’t from your school,”she ordered. “Anything could be helpful.”

The teenager picked up the pen and started writing. The others read over his shoulder and started offering suggestions. Romanoff seemed distant and lost in her thoughts, which May found slightly suspicious.

“Do you have someone in mind?”May asked, directing herself towards her. The redhead blinked and glanced back.

“Not particularly,”she answered on a quiet tone. May raised an eyebrow, expecting more. Romanoff didn’t offer and said a couple of names in turn, but the officer had a gut feeling the last guy’s name would not be unknown for long.

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Even though Coulson had assured her he had cleared the matter with her parents and the school, Natasha insisted going the next day.

When May had given her description, one person had immediately come to mind. She wasn’t taking much of a risk by omitting that name, but Natasha still wanted to check before making any assumptions.

She didn’t tell anyone about her plan. She just jumped in the car, kept quiet all the way and went through the morning without paying much attention to anything. She had one goal in mind that day, and she wanted to wait until lunchtime to make her move.

The cafeteria was busy and full, as usual. Steve was the first one to notice her and stood from the table he was sitting at. He was one of the few who hadn’t been notified, not because he might not care, but rather because they forgot him. Moreover, since he was still vaguely new, not everyone had his number. Good, she thought, at least someone would show some compassion towards her.

But Natasha made her way towards the table where James and Bobbi were chatting with other students, uncaring and laughing. She had chosen a particular outfit for the day: black jeans and scarlet top, the same thing she wore for her first date with James. She wanted to catch their attention without it being too obvious. As she expected, James was the first to turn around and meet her cold, unwavering gaze.

“Wow, look who’s here,”he said with a wicked grin. Natasha didn’t bat an eye. “Where are your friends, Nat? Finally figured out they were good-for-nothings?”

 

Steve joined her quickly and stood by her side, blatantly ignoring his former best friend. James looked slightly hurt, but hid the expression quickly.

“Nat, are you all right?”Steve asked worriedly. “I haven’t seen Maria or Rhodey this morning. Did something happen? Where’s Clint?”

Her fists were tight. Her voice nearly failed her when she spoke next:

“He’s fighting for his life in the hospital.”

The closest students who heard her quieted and turned around to glance at her. Both her former friends looked uneasy.

“What happened?”Steve urged, worry edging on his face.

“They used Loki to corner him in a dark alley and beat him up. He’s got three broken ribs and he won’t be able to move for a while because both legs and his left arm were wrecked. That is, if he survives the surgery.”Her voice quieted. “He got thrown back against a wall so hard an iron bar impaled him and pierced his lung. If Loki hadn’t managed to call 911 in time, he’d be dead by now.”

Some of the students looked uneasy and curious at the same time. A few looked others sick and ill at ease. Natasha turned around and faced the table where her former ‘friends’sat.

“I hope you’re happy with what you did, James.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All chapters had been delivered! The update will be every three days till the Epilogue (two to go after this one)  
> Hope you enjoy this :)

**Step Up When the Lights Go Off**

**22**

 

It took James two hours to find her. Natasha had been staying in plain sight on purpose, knowing he’d approach her sooner or later. The suggestion that he had planned Clint’s beating would make him angry if he was innocent, anxious if he wasn’t. And given the nervousness just _flowing_ off his body when he approached her, she was leaning towards the latter. She had to play it subtly if she wanted to lead him to confess. And it would be no facile task. Clint may not survive his injuries, but she couldn’t say she hadn’t given her best.

 

“What the hell was that about, at the cafeteria?”he hissed, eyes narrowed and forehead beading with sweat. Natasha bit back a smirk; this might be easier than she thought. “I didn’t do anything!”

 

She kept a blank face when she stood up from the small wall she had been sitting on. None of the members of the crew were around, which was probably why James had chosen to get closer to her now. The fact he hadn’t brought Bobbi with him spoke volumes. He didn’t want a show.

 

“You thought you could get away with it?”she asked, speaking slowly. “Thought the people who asked you to steal Loki’s phone would just rough him up, that you’d be able to get your share and threaten him into backing off?”Natasha went on, her voice growing harsher as she spoke.

 

“No! No, I swear to you Nat, I’m a jerk but I’m not a killer! I’m not going to jail!”

 

“Loki woke up yesterday. He gave the cops a description of the guy who cornered him and stole his phone,”Natasha went on, ignoring his protests. “The police are bringing a sketch artist in. It’s just a matter of time before they find you. If you go to the police now and confess everything, maybe they won’t charge you for attempted murder.”

 

James’eyes grew wide and panicked. “I never-” his breath caught and he knew she knew. “I didn’t even touch him. I didn’t know they were planning to go so far.”

 

“I’m sure you panicked when you realized they were actually hitting to kill. You thought he was dead? That’s why you didn’t call the ambulance? You thought the police would pin the whole affair on Hydra and the Chitauri, didn’t you? You thought they would leave you alone after that?”She narrowed her eyes and took a step closer. “Those people are gangs, James. I wasn’t even Clint’s official girlfriend, and yet they tried to hurt me just to get to him.”

 

James was clearly uneasy, eyes darting everywhere except on her. In contrast, Natasha was the epitome of calm. Now, it was just a matter of time. As James had said, he was a dickhead, but he still had a conscience.

 

“You worked for them once, James,”she went on softly. “They won’t forget you. If you make the first move, the cops will help you.”

 

The teenager closed his eyes tight and swallowed hard. “I can’t…”

 

Natasha ignored his words and took the card on which she had previously written the names and numbers of May and Ward.

 

“If you ever change your mind, go to the police station and ask for these people. They are in charge of the investigation.”James reluctantly reached for the card. “I first liked you because you were a great guy. Steve had a thing for you because he admired you.”At the mention of his friend, the teen’s head snapped up. “Are you going to live up and atone for what you’ve done? Or are you going to crawl in a hole and pray the tempest will be over soon?”She took a step closer, so that she stood now in his space. “I’ll give you till tomorrow afternoon. If you haven’t gone to the police by then, I’ll go myself.”

 

She left upon those words, and smiled when he didn’t try to hold her back.

 

- **SUWTLGO** -

 

  1. _Beep.  Beep._



 

The EKG was still beeping and the walls were too white. The visitors were still limited to family only, but Maria had smuggled Natasha in and then left for a coffee, leaving the two together. Clint was still in an induced coma and wouldn’t reply or even react to her words, but the nurses had encouraged them to talk, if only to let him know he wasn’t alone. Something about the unconsciousness reacting in spite of it all.

 

So there she was, standing by his side. Natasha gave him an once-over. He always looked peaceful in his sleep, lines smoothened and mouth sometimes curled into a half-smile, especially when she ran her fingers over his face or when she whispered his name. Now, he was unnaturally still and unresponsive and _pale_ as her hand brushed his forehead.

 

“I hate to see you like this,”she said quietly. “It’s not right.”

 

He didn’t twitch, didn’t do anything to acknowledge that she was even there. Nataasha sat back on the chair and held his cold, unmoving hand.

 

“Loki’s fine, if you were wondering,”she went on. “He’s leaving the hospital tomorrow. May and Ward are putting him under protection until the trial. Things are looking good for us. James came out and confessed what he did nearly right after I came to him. I think he was just waiting for someone to give him the right push. They recommended he leave town for awhile, too.”

 

The machines kept beeping. She brushed away a nonexistent strand off his forehead.

“Ironically, mom and dad agreed to stay a week longer. The case went to the headlines, since James’dad is well-known in town. The trial is scheduled for two weeks. Apparently they would have planned a search soon. I just wished they had acted faster instead of waiting till it was too late.”

 

May had explained everything that would happen. The Romanoffs had been strangely cooperative and supportive, and at the same time all the more eager to move ‘to leave all this behind’. Natasha bit her lower lip.

 

“That means I’m going to take Fury’s entrance exam. The whole crew is coaching me; I think they want to focus on something else and I’m their workout. We dropped out of the Street competition, by the way. Without you or Loki there it just didn’t feel the same. Thor was depressed, I couldn’t concentrate…Maria’s been pushing herself too hard; I don’t think she slept more than a couple hours in the past two days. And Gillian is making a drawing for you every day.”The thought brought her a small smile. “She misses her favorite uncle. And I think Maria is going to have a word with you about smuggling candies in her backpack.”

 

Natasha caressed the smooth skin again and smiled sadly. “Everyone’s missing you, Clint.”Her throat tightened and dropped slightly. “I miss you too. I’ve been sleeping in your bed, I hope you don’t mind.”Her grip on his hand tightened. “You need to get better, okay? We’re all waiting. And I…”Her voice failed her and she chocked on a sob. “Just wake up, please.”

 

**SUWTLGO**

 

Diane Romanoff was finishing her second suitcase when she caught the DVD case lying on the table. In under ten days, they were supposed to leave this place for once and for good and have a new start. She had been planning ahead, figuring out what she would do, especially with Natasha. Pull her out of that universe, make her see something else, something new.

 

‘Rehearsal *15’was written on the jacket, in bright red.

 

Curiosity got the best of her. She opened the DVD case and slipped the disk in the reader. She absentmindedly took the remote and pressed play. Almost immediately, she was greeted by the huge focus of a nose wearing glasses and eyes frowning.

 

_“-ts working now?”_ the sound was on.

 

_“Yeah, the red light is blinking,”_ someone replied off screen.

 

“ _Wish Stark had brought his camera_ ,”the glassed young man said, backing from the camera with a frown. _“Least then we wouldn’t have to use this old shit.”_

The background was filled with people dancing or warming up. It was a training room, Diane realized, and immediately started seeking her daughter in the crowd.

 

“ _Maria_!”Someone else shouted. _“Camera’s ready!”_

A brunette woman nodded and clapped her hands to catch everyone’s attention. She gave orders for dancers to come over and all obeyed, no exception, not even the big blonde brute that must have been three times her size. A little girl in a pink leotard ran towards the camera, shouting, _“I’ll start the recording mom!”_

“ _No need Lily, it’s already going,”_ one of the off-screen speakers said. _“And aren’t you supposed to be at the music with Steve?”_

A frustrated expression grew on the little girl’s face, and Diane was suddenly reminded of a much smaller Natasha.

 

_“I wanna stay here!_ ”she protested and pointed out to the dance floor. _“You should be out there!”_

Chuckles echoed and two young men, included the one wearing glasses, walked into sight. The brunette, Maria, was already starting to demonstrate a series of steps. A few were imitating her steps seriously until Maria ordered the music to go on. A popular song rose loudly in the background and she started shouting indications this time. When the singer started their refrain, she danced.

 

For a moment, Diane was stunned. She had done ballet in her earlier years and if she hadn’t met Mikhail, she would have probably followed that career, so she knew how difficult some moves were to execute. So when she saw the way this Maria moved, like she glided over the floor with unnatural ease, she was thoroughly impressed. And the others weren’t bad either; perhaps even the same level of her past partners. Diane thought she should ask for more information on these people after all.

 

Maria stopped dancing and turned around. Diane’s eyes rounded in shock; Natasha had just walked out of the crowd, looking slightly bothered about something. At first, she hadn’t recognized her daughter. The clothes she wore were not the kind she kept in her closet, and her hair was tied in a high ponytail to clear her beautiful face. She spoke to Maria with ease, adding hands to accompany her words. The brunette frowned and nodded. Both lined up on the same row as Natasha counted three, two, one…and both were dancing now.

 

Right then, Diane covered her mouth with her hand. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined her little girl could be so… _good_ didn’t even begin to describe it. The smooth steps, the grace and energy in her body, the ease with which she rolled her hips and jumped… Maria stopped and stepped back, eyes narrowed, but Natasha kept dancing. All others were staring at her seriously as well. She was offering a variation, a different path for the choreography, Diane realized. And these people were _listening_.

 

_“Dear Lord, no wonder why Furholl wants her so badly,_ ”someone said off-screen again, making the woman jump in surprise. “ _Are you sure she’s only been dancing for you for a few months?”_

 

_“Ya shoulda seen Sif’s face, the first night at the Heli, when I told her Tasha never danced street-style before. It was awesome.”_

_“I recall Sif cursing her name several times lately._ ”Pause. _“She is very happy to have found a worthy rival.”_

 

The music stopped. All dancers looked at the two newcomers, and Maria glared. _“You are late, boys.”_

_“Fashionably late.”_

The two entered the screen, and she recognized Natasha’s so-called boyfriend. In the background, her daughter’s face had brightened. Clint walked straight towards her and gave her a peck on the lips before returning his attention to the brunette.

 

_“Loki and I had an idea for the guys’ part._ ”Maria crossed her arms and glanced out of frame. “ _Mind putting on the music back on, Steve?”_

A blond boy – Diane frowned and wondered, it couldn’t be the sweet little Steve Rogers, could it? - waved at them and the music was back on. They all took a step back to give Clint some space. He and the young man she assumed to be Loki moved at once. And once again, the result was tremendously amazing. The youngster her daughter ‘dated’might have the vocabulary of a sailor and the looks of a delinquent (which he was, according to Mikhail), but he had the full energy and body built for the choreography he was executing. Not even her best partner back then could move like that.

 

Diane sat on the couch and kept watching the rehearsal. They were all talented, she could tell as much. They were eager and full of life and…and Natasha was a shining star among them. She lacked experience and Maria kept yelling at her for not being at her best all the time, but now Diane understood why Natasha loved this place. Those people understood her world, belonged to her world. And they had welcomed her, and gave her something she was probably longing for.

 

A slight guilty feeling crept within Diane. Perhaps she and her husband had been too harsh, too fast to judge. Perhaps she should try to convince him to give Natasha a chance at this school she had mentioned during their last discussion. Or rather, Diane reluctantly admitted, their one-sided conversation. Natasha had spoken of a huge opportunity. And the name of Furholl did ring a bell.

 

Diane stood up as the little girl, Lilly, ran hurriedly to the camera to turn it off. She needed time to think.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There goes :) Read and enjoy!

**Step Up When The Lights Go Off**

**23**

 

"Nat, we need to go."

The redhead jumped slightly and turned around. Maria was standing behind her, her hand clenched on her handbag, her steel-blue eyes firmly set on her.

"The candidates for the entrance test have to be at the place an hour before it begins, remember? We need to leave now if you want to make it."

Natasha returned her eyes to Clint. He was still unconscious, although the doctors had been optimistic. According to them, it was just a matter of time before he opened his eyes. The redhead inhaled sharply and squeezed his still unmoving hand. She'd believe it when he would stare at her and smile again.

"It's the big day, Clint," she whispered. "I'm taking Fury's test. I won't be gone long, I promise." She stood up and leaned forwards to kiss his forehead. "I'll be back as soon as I know how I did."

He remained unmoving and Natasha reluctantly released her grip on his hand before turning around to follow Maria. If she glanced over her shoulder and saw his silhouette, she'd be tempted to return by his side and keep vigil till visiting hours were over.

"He wouldn't want you to miss your chance because of him," Maria said as they stepped in the car. "He'd blame himself."

"That's why I'm doing it," Natasha replied before grimacing. "He'll probably hate us already for forfeiting. Loki does that plenty."

"He's just pissed Barnes is getting off with just a warning. I'll bet Loki will swallow his pride and ask Stark for a favor."

Natasha chuckled. "I wouldn't blame him. Knowing Loki, I'm actually surprised he waited so long before making his move."

Maria rolled her eyes. "And when he does, it's going to be spectacular, trust me."

The rest of the drive was made in complete silence. When Maria pulled into her usual parking spot, she told her, "I'll be with Fury to oversee the preparations. The Council – the judges – is easily annoyed with him, and vice versa."

"Someone needs to be there for damage control?"

The brunette snorted and stepped out of the car. Natasha shouldered her bag and headed to the changing room with her convocation. About fifty girls and boys were lining up, eager to get inside and show off their worth. They were all tall, slender, beautiful. For a moment, Natasha felt like the ugly duckling in the mass and had a sudden urge to back off. But then she remembered Clint's smirk, his encouraging words whenever they mentioned this moment, and decided she couldn't back off. The whole crew would be there; they had invested so much time in her training, and had reserved seats within the audience. She felt she couldn't let them down. Phil was staying with Gillian at the hospital with Clint, so he would notify everyone if anything was to happen.

The time seemed to tick like a blur. Natasha barely realized she had been ushered into a changing room before the warming up, and it felt like seconds between the time she had started and the list was pinned on the wall. Being in the 'R' meant she had time ahead of her. She was in the last girls among the twenty-five others. Only four would be kept today. Three other auditions were planned in the next few weeks, to form a full class. Natasha swallowed, closed her eyes and laid her head back against the wall. She couldn't calm down. She was too nervous. This day, this audition would be life changing. If she succeeded…if she failed…

"Natasha Romanoff?" someone from the staff called. She was immediately on her feet and hurrying to follow the man. He led her behind a stage, where another girl was finishing her routine. The candidate bowed and left with a light footing. Natasha breathed in sharply and closed her eyes. One shot, Fury had told her. Maria had admitted that had this only been up to him, he would have hired her on spot. But he was not alone into making decisions, so she needed the approval of the four others on board. The Council, composed of one woman and three men, from their forties to fifties. They wouldn't be the only ones in the room. The audience behind was deadly quiet, she could barely head them breathe.

"Ready for the big show?"

She nearly jumped at the proximity of Tony Stark, all dressed up in his usual jeans and sweaters. The member of the staff eyed him warily before the billionaire waved him away.

"I didn't realize you managed the sound," she said with a raised eyebrow. Stark was an annoying jerk in her mind, but she was glad to find him here. He shot her a wide grin, as if to tell her he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Fury needed a last minute guy. And that annoys the Council, so all the better." The scene was cleared, so he lowered his voice and ushered her forwards. "Your turn. You show 'em, Natasha. You know you're the best."

Natasha laughed nervously, but she felt a little bit better. The crew was there to support her, but she wished Clint stood among them. Still, she walked on the middle of the stage, ready to face the jury. The room was dark, she couldn't see anyone, aside from the four people lined up behind a table.

"Miss Romanoff." One of the members of the Council spoke up. She looked at the man and nodded. "Please begin."

In the backstage, she saw Tony raising his thumb and pressing the play button. Upon hearing the introduction, she closed her eyes, letting the music invade her mind.

_Money's the motivation, money's the conversation_

2 Chainz's words raised on the silent stage. She jumped on the music, moved instinctively. Listen to the beat, she reminded herself, let it guide you. Maria's stern yet watchful look came back to mind, every piece of advice the crew could have given her remained.

_It's whatever we had to do, it's just who I am_

_Yeah, it's the life I chose_

Two steps, cross legs, jump in a spin.

_I never feared death or dying_

_I only fear never trying_

_I am whatever I am,_

_Only God can judge me, now I'm_

Backwards salto. Slide to the side. Contraction of the muscles and jump forwards on her feet. And then…

_One shot, everything rides on tonight_

_Even if I've got three strikes_

_I'mma go for it_

_This moment, we own it_

Stretching, chasse, spin and jump.

_And I'm not to be played with_

_Because it can get dangerous_

_See these people I ride with_

_This moment, we own it_

Slow motioned hardstyle. Bend backwards hands brushing the floor as they accompanied the motion set by her head. Natasha closed her eyes, feeling the way her body relaxed in the continuity of the move. One hand on the ground, she flipped with the grace of a well-trained gymnast.

_What you say, tell me what you say_

_Working hard, reppin for my dogs, do this everyday,_

_Takin' off, looking out for all, makin sure we ball,_

_Like the mob all you do is call_

She remembered her parents, remembered their last fight, left the anger out and express in her movements. Remembered Clint, the smiles he kept for her, his gentle touch, slowed in the motion. Every single feeling meddled with the music, every word was spoken through the motions of her body.

_It's the day in the life and I'm ready to ride_

_Got the spirit, I'm feelin like a killer inside_

Again back to the beginning but on the opposite moves. Show them you master both sides, no favor on the right or left. She could be hard, flexible, fast, slow. She could adapt to anything.

_And I'm not to be played with_

_Because it can get dangerous_

_See these people I ride with_

_This moment, we own it._

The music stopped. She froze in her position and waited.

**SUWTLGO**

Steve caught sight of Maria leaning back against the door, arms crossed and staring at the stage intensely. Her eyes never left Natasha during her performance. He waited until she was done to discreetly sneak between the ranks and join her. For the past months that he had enrolled at the Creative Arts School, he had hung out with the crew and spent a lot of time with them. Now that the pressure of the competition was gone, he had been wondering…

"Hey, can I bother you for a moment?" he whispered. Maria looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Steve bit back a swallow; although he knew her better now, she still intimidating him. "Do you think I could, y'know, join the crew? I think the exercise could be good for me."

The brunette gave him an once-over, and the corner of her smile lifted slightly.

"You definitively need it. Talk to Phil when this is over, he'll schedule something. But don't expect your first rodeo till at least next year." Pause. She stared at him again. "Maybe two."

Steve chuckled good-naturedly. Maria's attention was distracted by the arrival of a text. He turned around to leave when she suddenly caught his forearm. Her grip was strong and he would probably be bruised in the morning, but he didn't protest when, even in the darkness, he noticed how pale she looked.

"Call the others," she ordered quietly. And although her voice was quiet, it was filled with raw emotion. "Tell them…tell them Clint just woke up."

**SUWTLGO**

When the music stopped, Natasha was drenched in sweat, panting madly, but content. It had been a while since she'd let lose like this. She forced her breath under control and, out of habit, bowed at the jury. They dismissed her with a quiet nod and she left the stage on a normal pace. As she reached the back stage, Tony extended his hand for a fist bump; which she returned with a grin.

"And they'd be stupid not to take you now," he said before turning back towards the control device. The next girl in the line was already hurrying on stage.

Natasha left him and returned to the lounge to change back into her everyday clothing. It wasn't until she grabbed her bag that she noticed she had received two missed calls and three texts. When she opened the first one from Phil and read the first lines, she literally dropped her phone.

The small 'bang' of the electronic device against the ground brought her back to reality and she hurriedly reached down to pick it up. Around her, some girls smirked mockingly and another made a snide remark, but she couldn't care less. She immediately dialed Coulson, who was supposed to be on 'Clint watch' during her absence. The man didn't answer, but Maria entered the room and Natasha was on her within seconds.

"He's awake?"

Maria nodded and guided her outside, where the whole crew was stacked in a car, waiting for her.

"I can't leave because I'm supervising the whole event," the brunette said. "But I'll be there asap. Say hello for me."

No-one made a sound during the drive. Rhodey was behind the wheel, probably because he was the only one not freaking out or too excited to drive. Bruce was breathing heavily, Steve was trying not to have an asthma attack and Thor fidgeting like a seven year old on the way to Disneyland. Natasha kept her eyes out on the road, her mind set on one thing. Nothing could be more important than seeing Clint right now.

**SUWTLGO**

Clint was seeing double. Or triple, depending on the way people were positioned around him. Tiredness was overtaking his sight and mind and he couldn't focus properly. Phil had to repeat himself three times to make him understand that he had been out for nearly a week, that everyone had been scared and would be happy to see him. In a deep, background part of his mind, he thought getting back on his feet was going to be the worst thing ever.

Then he sank unconscious for God-knew-how-long and when he woke up, even more people were there. Most of the crew had sneaked in and widely broken the two-people in a room rule. With his unreliable vision, the crew turned close to a crowd and the feeling was slightly suffocating. But he calmed down slightly when his eyes caught Natasha's bright red hair. She stood the closest, sitting right next to him, eyes solely on him and touching him whenever she could.

Now he had three Tashas fussing over him. Maybe triple vision wasn't so bad after all.

"Clint?"

He blinked slowly and realized he must have passed out again. No-more sound of chatter or noise echoed in the room. He could barely stay awake, but he squeezed her hand in answer to the question in her voice. Natasha looked like she could have cried in relief.

"We can't stay long," Coulson's voice warned from somewhere behind her, but his voice was strangely tight, which told him how close he was to lose it too. Clint promised himself he'd make up to them for being a prick the last few days. "The doctor said we shouldn't tire him too much."

A sudden urge to sleep made him close his eyes. Barely a second later, Clint felt Natasha's mouth press a quick but gentle peck on his lips.

"I'll be back soon," she promised, and upon those words, he allowed himself to fall asleep again.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter :) Thank you for following so far ^^  
> Musics are 'Shake it' from Metro Station and 'On the Floor' Pitbull vs J-Lo (male version -check it out sometimes, that's how I imagined Steve's voice to be like ^^)  
> Enjoy!

**Epilogue** :

 

**About 2 months later**

 

Prom night happened in the high school gymnasium, and most of the students were having the time of their lives. The crew was scattered talking with friends, but a few gathered in a corner, waiting for the good moment to invade the dance floor. Experience had taught them that near-professional dancers had a tendency to make the others feel inadequate, especially in public gatherings. Tony had invited himself over for the night as the DJ –the headmaster had to agree, Iron Man was one of the bests DJs out there, but he was one of the most expensive –and was feeding a slowly-rising fire in the room. For all his boasting, he could detect the general mood like no-one and put the right tracks to keep them dancing. It did help that half of the school knew Stark’s reputation, and were naturally overexcited to see him for real.

“He sure knows how to throw a party,”Rhodey remarked, observing his classmates having the time of their lives. “You think he’s going to throw in one of his classics?”

Jasper laughed out loud, pointing at the crowd:“Look at our resident genius! I knew he was pinning for his lab partner!”

Bruce and the infamous Betty Ross were dancing awkwardly close to each other. Although the former was infinitively more graceful than the latter, it was obvious that Bruce didn’t move as fluidly as he usually would.

“Shame Clint can’t join, he’d be laughing his head off.”Rhodey glanced at Maria. “You are recording everything, aren’t you?”

“He’s with Natasha at home, doing stuff I don’t want to know about. And yes, I asked someone to take care of it,”the brunette replied. She looked good in her dark blue dress. “Since her parents decided to leave her behind, she’ll be staying at the warehouse.”

“Yeah…”Jasper muttered. “More doe-eyes and love everywhere. Can’t wait to be smothered by fluff and kisses.”

“You’re just annoyed you still don’t have a girlfriend,”Rhodey retorted with a smirk.

Maria rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch. “Play nice boys, I’m going on a date,”she announced and prepared to leave.

“Dad is finally taking Mom out?”Jasper asked with a wicked grin. Maria ignored him and picked up her jacket. “Wait…I thought Phil was supposed to stay with Clint?”

“Clint’s a big boy, he can handle himself. And Pepper’s there for Gillian,”the brunette replied curtly. “I just came to make sure Stark was well-installed in his show.”The lights started to dim, and she seemed to take it as her cue. “If anything turns sour, don’t call me. I’m officially off-duty,”she added with a smirk as she darted out of the room.

Jasper and Rhodey exchanged glances. Spotlights cleared the ceiling and Tony put his headphone back on his shoulders. He was about to prepare something, that much they could predict.

“I need my favorite singers here!”he shouted through his headphone. The beat changed and the introduction of a tonic song echoed in the room. Students clapped enthusiastically, looking around for something they might have missed. And suddenly, a few girls screamed a high-pitched fangirl type. Peter Parker jumped on stage right next to Stark and waved at them. He was dressed in one of Fury’s black and grey uniforms, the kind they put when they were up for a show, with a spider stamped on his chest. It took students a couple of seconds to realize a well-known idol had just joined them.

“I have a feeling Fury is staging an advertisement for his new album,”Bruce said as he joined them suddenly, making both boys startle.

“You abandoned your girlfriend?”Jasper asked in mildshock-slash-amusement.

“She’s back with her friends,”he replied with a shrug. “And I can’t find Steve.”

As if he’d heard his words, Parker shouted over the crowd:“C’mon man, I need my partner right now!”A blonde teenager joined him with a shy yet determined smile on stage. Steve had his own mike, his own black uniform with a circular logo. “Ready for the show?”

“Lead the way, bro.”

Half of the room turned quiet at those words, stunned into silence, but then the music went on and Parker opened his mouth.

_‘Let’s drop!’_

Guitar background boomed and drums followed. Steve shared an amused glance with his partner and dropped a suave _‘Yeah…Shake, shake it’_

And so Parker opened the ball:

_‘I'll take you home if you don't leave me at the front door’ (leave me at the front door_ , Steve echoed)

_Your body's cold, but girl we're getting so warm_

And Steve relayed:

_Tonight you're falling in love (let me go now,_ Peter retorted with a wink _)_

_This feeling's tearing me up_

And they both chorused:

_‘Now if she does it like this, will you do it like that?_

_Now if she touches like this, will you touch her right back?_

_Now if she moves like this, will you move her like that? (Come on)_

_Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, a-shake it’_

Part of the room was laughing, the other was dancing, and a smaller part, the people who actually knew Steve, were stunned he’d dare sing that kind of song. And especially at a school. Bruce and Rhodey howled in laugher, while Jasper stared with eyes wide open.

“I’ll bet you it’s a dare,”the latter said, when Steve started swinging his hips suggestively with a hand in his hair. “It has to be a dare. Bet it was Tony.”

“And I’m sure he just wants to have fun,”Bruce interrupted, grinning amusingly. “Just let him be.”

And fun, Steve was sure having some. He didn’t look like the scrawny little kid everyone wanted to beat up anymore. He stood straight, looking a lot stronger than before and perfectly at ease on stage. Parker and he completed each other just fine. The crew exchanged knowing glances; Steve’s physical changes were only due to the hard work at training.

“Where did they get that song anyway?”Jasper asked. Rhodey shrugged.

“Metro Station. And yes, it was a dare, from Parker. Steve took convincing, but he agreed. And I don’t think he’s regretting it.”

The song ended and suddenly Steve took a step forwards.“To the Avengers who missed out on the Street. This one’s for you.”

“Make place people!”Parker shouted, waving the spectators away. “This is time for SHIELD.”

The three boys exchanged glances. Another music rose and this time, they were familiar with. Steve hummed and started:

_It’s a new generation_

_Of party people_

All lights focused on one spot, where a female dancer was undulating slowly in rhythm. The three boys froze when they recognized the figure.

“Didn’t Maria say Natasha was with Clint?”

_Let me introduce you to my party,_

_In the cluuuub…_

She wore the black uniform too, with another elegant spider as a logo too. Her red hair was loose over her shoulders, moving along her arms elegantly. Parker jumped from the stage and fell in line with her steps while a computerized voice sang:

_I don't sleep I snooze_

_I don't play no games so don't get it confused no_

_Cos you will lose yeah_

Parker used to be a student of Fury’s, they remembered. And Steve was nowhere close to being as physically fit to follow a choreography to its fullest. Jasper, Rhodey and Bruce exchanged glances. They knew the steps; they knew they should intervene soon…and then Steve took over:

_If you go hard you gotta get on the floor_

_If you're a party freak then step on the floor_

_If you're an animal then tear up the floor_

His voice was surprising smooth and fitting to the lyrics. A third character jumped on the stage. They were even more stunned to realize Maria hadn’t actually joined Phil on a date, and that Phil was actually standing near Tony with Clint in a wheelchair holding a camera. Had this been planned all along and they hadn’t been told?

_Don't stop keep it moving_

_Put your drinks up!_

They ran towards the stage. It wasn’t easy, with the crowd of students gathered all around the dancers, thrilled to have a life-show.

“That’s the mood people!”Tony interjected and threw a punch in the air. Students screamed their agreement. It didn’t look like prom anymore, but a concert.

_Dance the night away_

_Live your life ,and stay young on the floor..._

_Dance the night away_

_Grab somebody and drink a little more.._

Bruce slipped next to Parker as Jasper and Rhodey took their usual spot besides Maria. Out of the corner of the eye, they saw Thor and Sif join up.

_Aaa la la la la, lalalalalala la laaaa_

_Tonight we gonna be on the floor_

Natasha shared the lead with Maria. They had repeated this for weeks in preparation and then had to cancel the competition at the last minute, and it felt good to finally show off now.

_Freak it off, kick it up_

_Raise the roof wreck the dancehall_

_Rip these walls light it up_

_Make some noise ohhh_

The music cut short and so did the lights. Natasha, Maria and Parker slipped away in the darkness, so did Steve off stage. The three others got the message and mingled with the crowd as discreetly as could be. Their suits would be damp with sweat and they would probably be busted and tagged as ‘the dancers’the moment the lights returned.

But they couldn’t think of a better way to conclude their night.

 

 


End file.
